


A Little Piece of Jersey

by bgharison



Series: Jersey Shore to North Shore [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Violence, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 207,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7324291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgharison/pseuds/bgharison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please see series notes for complete warnings.</p><p>Danny's former rookie comes to Hawaii for some r&r and finds herself the willing bait in an undercover investigation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the early days of Five-O; but with the liberty of including Grover.

**monday**

"Hey, boss."

A grin spread across Danny's face at the familiar voice on the phone.

"Rookie! What gives! Where's the love? It's been at least six weeks since you've called. Don't tell me I've been replaced," the detective good-naturedly grumbled, juggling his cell phone, coffee, and file at his desk.

"Never, you know that."

Danny paused, picking up on fatigue and an even raspier than usual sound in his former rookie's voice. "Hey, everything okay there, kid?"

The expected " _Hey, who you calling kid_?" came back, indignant if slightly strained. "Had a little run-in with an idiot, so I'm a little bit suspended. Thought I would take you up on that offer for some R &R on your newly adopted god-forsaken pineapple infested island home. Come pick me up at the airport?"

"How little of a run-in? How little bit suspended?" Danny thumped the file onto his desk and began to wind himself up into full rant mode. "How does one get a "little bit" suspended?"

"Chill, Danny. You gonna pick me up, or do I make a scene and get my ass hauled into your fancy Five-O headquarters or what? What does that even MEAN, 'Five-O'? I still don't get it." Danny wasn't the only one who could launch into a rant. He and his officer-in-training were legendary for their vocal outbursts. Those who thought the younger officer had picked up the habit from him were sorely mistaken.

"I will pick up you up, Jax," the detective replied, "Of course I will pick you up. But I expect a full report on this run-in and suspension of supposedly small proportions. What time does your plane arrive?" he asked, looking up as Steve entered his office, curious as to what new information had his partner pacing and gesturing.

"Well, so here's the thing, Danny. My plane has landed, and there seems to be some dispute as to my firearm being released back into my custody. Can you pause your crime-fighting long enough to come help sort this out? Please."

Steve's eyebrows raised at the clearly agitated voice he could hear through Danny's cell phone. 'Everything ok?' he mouthed, as Danny rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, instantly tense at the unmistakable hitch in his former rookie's voice, almost breaking on the word please.

"I'm on my way. If you cause a scene now and get hauled in here in hand-cuffs, we will pass each other in traffic so please just behave and wait for me, okay?" he tried to keep his tone light despite his growing concern.

Hanging up the phone, Danny grabbed for his keys. "Hey, partner, I'm gonna need to take a break from the exhilarating world of cold cases and go pick up my former trainee, who seems to be a 'little bit' suspended and is now on the verge of pitching a hissy fit because Honolulu Airport Security is apparently not inclined to return the firearm checked through security or some such nonsense. I didn't even know Jax was coming, but this is typical, just land at the airport without so much as a –"

"Chill, Danno," Steve grinned at his irate partner. "Come on, let's go straighten this out. Anything is better than paperwork and cold cases." Steve was curious; he'd heard a lot of Danny's animated stories about this rookie of his, especially in the early days of Five-O when Kono was fresh out of the academy.

"If one more person tells me to chill this morning," Danny grumbled, as they walked out the door, "What, it's National Chill Danno Day? And one cannot 'chill' in this interminable heat and humidity, now can one? So I don't understand that particular choice of word. Chill. Everyone ELSE needs to chill, that's what needs to happen."

As they reached the Camaro, Steve held out his hands for the keys. "Seriously? I'm the one called to the airport to pick up a friend and you're not going to let me drive? My own car, to the airport, to pick up my own friend? Seriously?"

"You seem agitated, Danno. I don't know that I trust your driving skills. Get in the car."

As Steve navigated the car through the mid-morning traffic, he glanced at Danny. The detective was nervously chewing on a fingernail and shifting in his seat.

"You're worried about Jax," Steve observed, "enough that you haven't even started your usual argument over the radio."

Danny sighed. "Something's not right. I've asked Jax a dozen times to come for a visit – and yeah, impulsive is not unusual, but this is beyond impulsive. No warning, no notice, just arrives at the airport? And why won't they release the firearm? Every LEO's firearm is registered. You and I fly through that airport all the time, no problem."

"We're sort of recognizable, Danno. Your old partner isn't."

"Trainee. Rookie. Not partner. I was Jax's training officer. Well, Grace and I were, until . . ." Danny sighed. "Jax had graduated just before 9/11. By the time we cleaned up the aftermath, she had been assigned to another precinct. We kept in touch though. Turned out to be a fine officer – a little on the crazy side, like some Super SEAL I know, but a good officer," Danny smiled, shaking his head at the memory of more than one insane stunt Jax had pulled on his watch. "How that kid survived training is beyond me; taking risks, always with something to prove. A good impression was made on 9/11 and there was a job offer with NYPD; I think she ended up in SVU, although I'm still getting crazy stories back from a bunch of departments, so I'm not sure. Still doesn't explain the hold-up with airport security."

"Well, let's go find out," Steve replied, neatly parking the car in the restricted area closest to the airport security office, as he and Danny showed their badges to the duty guard. Walking through the double doors, Danny inquired to the familiar desk sergeant as to the whereabouts of one seriously irritated NYPD officer.

"Sorry, Detective Williams. Officer Nolan is in the conference room. The weapon was checked in New York, but when we received the NLETs letter on this end, Officer Nolan was flagged as being suspended . . . we were trying to sort out the paperwork when you arrived. If you'll just come this way, we will release both Officer Nolan and the firearm." The sergeant motioned for the men to follow him.

"Detective Williams, you can go straight to the conference room if you like, and Commander McGarrett can sign for the weapon?"

Steve nodded and paused at a locked door, which the sergeant unlocked, and stepped inside. He pulled a clipboard from the side of a file cabinet, double checked the numbers, then presented Steve with a small box. "If you'll just sign here, Commander. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience."

Steve scrawled his signature across the bottom of the form, releasing into his possession one Sig- Sauer P266. _Hunh, nice. One of my top choices._

His musings on firearm options was interrupted by the sergeant, who was saying, "Conference room is just two more doors down, on your right."

"Thanks. Got it. Appreciate the cooperation," Steve offered. Immunity and means meant that he and his Five-O team rarely had to quibble with any local law enforcement. It made life more efficient.

Still pondering the relative merits of Sig-Sauers and immunity and means, Steve continued down the hall in his usual confident swagger, not pausing or knocking as he strode through the conference room door.

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight Danny with his arms around his former rookie, one hand cradling her head against his shoulder, fingers absently stroking through close cropped auburn hair. As the door clicked shut behind him, Jax whipped around, startled, and green eyes locked with Steve's. There was a lot more hair, waving down over her right cheekbone, but doing little to hide some impressively multi-colored bruising.

"Neanderthal," chided Danny, "at least you didn't kick the door in. Meet Officer Jax Nolan, NYPD. Jax, Commander Steve McGarrett."

"Ah, the legend, in the flesh," Jax extended her left hand to Steve; her right arm was encased in a sling. "Danny's told me stories."

"Officer Nolan, nice to meet you," Steve offered, awkwardly shifting the box to free up his left hand. _Get a grip, Commander._

Jax rolled her eyes at his fumbling, and then winced as the motion brought on another wave of pain and nausea. Steve did not miss the brief tightening of her lips, just as he hadn't missed the startle reflex when he walked in the door. Meeting Danny's eyes briefly above her tousled hair, he saw tension and worry reflected back.

"Thank you Commander; sorry about the inconvenience. I forgot that my status as suspended could cause problems. I was a little fuzzy on details when I boarded." Jax's hoarse voice betrayed the firm handshake and her attempt at a carelessly upright posture was failing miserably. Steve glanced beneath the collar of her shirt and saw tell-tale signs of bruising. _Raspy voice, she's been choked; dislocated shoulder or possibly a fractured collarbone; nasty bruise, possible concussion; she's guarding those ribs, too._ His instinctive training in monitoring the health of those in his command took an automatic inventory of visible injuries.

Danny rested his hand gently on the uninjured shoulder and she flinched again, turning her head to look slightly up at him. "Let's go, kid, and may I suggest we begin our Hawaiian tour with a stop at one of our many fine medical facilities? You look like crap."

"Danny, I could still hand you your ass with my arm in a sling, and don't forget it," Jax retorted, holding out her good hand impatiently toward the box still in Steve's hand. "May I?" the question was a barely polite demand, but the slight tremor in her hand did not inspire Steve to hand over a weapon, boxed and unloaded though it might be.

Danny smoothly handed Jax her backpack instead, and picked up her battered duffle bag off the floor. "Let's get you settled in the car and at least back to the office. And then you're going to tell me what in the hell you've gotten yourself in to this time."

"Good to see you, too, Danny," Jax replied wryly. "You know, a good friend can just come to see another good friend when she has some vacation. You did invite me, after all." The three made their way through the whoosh of the double doors, and Jax squinted and paled as she encountered the bright mid-day sunshine.

Danny took the backpack from her hand and opened the passenger door, watching as she carefully lowered herself into the car. He thought he caught a whimper but then she giggled at the array of pink hair scrunchies resting in the console. "Something you want to share with the class?" she squinted up at him.

"Yes, I'm experimenting with new styles. Shut up Jax, and grab those sunglasses there before you spontaneously combust," he replied, gesturing to a spare pair of shades. They were Grace's, but they would probably do in a pinch.

Steve had opened the trunk and was carefully stowing the weapon, stalling to wait for Danny to come toss in the duffle. "She is seriously injured, Danny. What the hell? What did she tell you?"

"Said she took down a perp too hard, he filed a complaint, she got suspended. With pay, which tells me her chief thinks she'll be cleared once the dust settles. That's all we covered before you burst through the door like the Neanderthal animal you are and startled her. And yourself, I might add," Danny smirked, remembering the look of shock on Steve's face.

"Well, she's pretty jumpy, which is probably one reason as to why airport security wasn't inspired to hand her a weapon. And I just wasn't expecting her to be so . . . she's really . . . "

_Adorable._ Steve's brain helpfully filled in the blanks. _That is an inappropriate adjective, Commander._

Danny narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Steve.

"Um, short. She's really little, I mean, shorter than you, Danno. All the stories, I just envisioned her to be more, you know, tall and badass, like Kono."

Danny laughed. "Oh, she's plenty badass. She has the temper to go with that red hair. I hate to see what the other guy looks like, honestly."

Both men jumped as Jax tapped the horn. "Not getting any cooler, here, guys," she complained, leaning her head wearily against the open front window.

"I will figure this out, Steven," Danny said quietly, then added louder, "Coming, coming, coming, princess."

"Princess your ass," Jax sniped.

"Children," said Steve, holding the front seat forward so Danny could fold himself into the back.

As Steve eased back into the traffic, he took in the stark pallor of Jax's skin beneath the bruising. "I think we should take Danny's suggestion of stopping to get you checked out," he offered gently. "You look like you had more than a little run-in with that hostile."

"Thanks, but I'm fine, really. Not used to this blazing light. We have smog where I come from. Casts a nice, gentle haze on the day. And I'm hungry." Steve recognized a diversion tactic; he'd used enough of them to discourage being on the receiving end of medical treatment. Given that her eyes looked closed behind Grace's sunglasses . . . _how the heck do Grace's sunglasses fit her?_. . . he risked meeting Danny's eyes in the rear view mirror. Danny shrugged; it was really impossible to overestimate the stubbornness of this woman. Honestly, he'd only met its equal in his crazy ninja SEAL partner.

"Okay," he countered from his unenviable position in the back seat, "How about we go back to headquarters, since some of us were not notified of visitors from the mainland, and therefore did not have the luxury of asking for the day off, and you can park your little woozy self in my office. And I will provide you with the finest soda and peanut butter crackers the vending machine has to offer, because you look like you're about to keel over, and then you can tell me just what in the name of all that is good and holy on the east coast is going on. Deal?"

"Deal," she responded, her voice still annoyingly and painfully raspy. "Geez, chill Daniel."

And then she closed her eyes, allowing the ranting from the back seat and the quiet observation from the tall man to her left to wash over her and she relaxed for the first time in days. _He said 'hostile'_ , she briefly thought, _'military habits die hard . . . '._ Feeling truly safe for the first time since Danny had left New Jersey, she let the comforting sound of his voice lull her into a deep sleep.

()()()()()()()()

Danny had never witnessed Steve drive so slowly and carefully. Well, there was that one time, when he was the passenger with the right shoulder in the sling. While Steve might play off his own injuries, he seemed to take others' very seriously. Danny glanced at Jax in the front seat and winced in sympathy at the sight of the seat belt angling across her shoulder. She seemed down for the count, so he risked life and limb to lean forward over the console and gently pull back the collar of her shirt.

"Choke hold?" Steve had noticed Danny's exploration of Jax's neck. "I noticed bruising back at the airport."

Danny looked more closely, checking to be sure Jax wasn't about to wake up and commit manslaughter. He knew that she would resent his invasion of her privacy, but damn it, she wasn't being very forthcoming with answers, and he was a detective, after all.

"No. Choke hold would mean more diffuse bruising. These are finger marks, Steve. Individual finger marks. Someone was very angry, and it was very personal. And it was enough to damage her voice, too. What else did you pick up on?" Danny knew that while his skills could differentiate injuries on close investigation, Steve was trained to assess overall physical condition at a glance. It was all they would have until they could get answers from Jax, and Danny was starting to wonder if that would happen. "She's like you; she's going to insist that everything is 'fine' until we're hauling her unconscious ass up off the floor. I hope she's just sleeping now."

"We're almost back; if she's still out when we park I'll give her a quick field check for fractures, if that's okay with you." Steve knew it was risky to get handsy with anyone in law enforcement, much less someone obviously on edge. He wanted to at least have Danny's permission, as plausible deniability if she woke up and caught him in a potentially awkward position.

"Yeah, that's fine, and if you find anything seriously broken or cracked, like that thick skull of hers, we can just head straight to the ER. She hates hospitals almost as much as you; in fact, I can't even guarantee that she's been to get checked out. That sling could have been from any number of other cases that went sideways."

Danny ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He'd seen Jax come out on the injured end of a scuffle more than once, but he'd always had the satisfaction of seeing the other guys in handcuffs, looking even bloodier and usually shocked, and seeing Jax with a self-satisfied smirk . . . never mind that she was usually smirking from the back of an ambulance, as she tried to wiggle away from whatever poor EMT had to deal with her. This time, there was no smirk. "She did say the guy filed a complaint, about her using excessive force. I wonder what he looks like, if she looks this bad?"

Steve glanced over at Jax, his expression a mix of concern and admiration. "I would indeed like to see what someone looks like, who's willing to admit getting his ass handed to him by all five foot something of her. I mean, what guy files a complaint that someone probably half his size beat the crap out of him?"

"Consistently underestimated. I went to her precinct about a month before I left Jersey; her unit was being given a commendation for a hostage situation at one of the local hospitals. Her commanding officer said that she was especially effective because she was consistently underestimated." Danny didn't hide the pride in his voice. "I wish Grace coulda been there. She had so much confidence in Jax."

"Were the two of them close?" Steve glanced in the rear view at Danny.

"Yeah, they were pretty tight. You know, women in law enforcement – that has its own challenges. Grace knew that, knew how to make it work. Jax wouldn't be half the officer she was without Grace."

"You okay, partner?" Steve asked, as they pulled into parking at the Palace.

"Yeah. Yeah, this is good. Happy memories, now, you know? I just hope Jax hasn't gotten herself into something over her head. But she probably just took down a guy too hard, maybe just really needed a break. A vacation. Cops do take those, at least where I came from. To relax, even. Not go on death marches through the jungle, like you, Steven."

"Okay, whatever, _Daniel_ . . you think she's out of it enough? Want me to give a quick check before we wake her up?"

Danny said Jax's name softly, testing to see if she would respond. When she didn't budge, he gave a quick nod to Steve, who started moving his hand expertly over Jax.

_Danny's talking . . . what's he want? Ow. He's poking me. I should wake up, tell him I'm fine._

Steve gave Danny a running inventory of his findings. "Feels like this shoulder was dislocated, there's a lot of swelling; collarbone might be fractured, but not broken."

"Okay, well, I'm sure she's had worse. Collarbone, though, that hurts."

"Yeah, ask any football player. Okay, cheekbone bruised, not broken. Big, big bump on the back of her head. I'd say consistent with a pistol, Danno."

_Ow. Danny. Stop._

Steve hesitated as Jax stirred, turning her head away from him. "I noticed she was really guarding those ribs."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she was hurting when she sat down in the car."

Steve cautiously spread his hand over Jax ribcage, just above the waist of her cargo pants, and pressed gently.

_Danny. Seriously. That tickles . . . OW. And that HURTS._ Jax realized that Danny was checking for fractured ribs, his long fingers . . . _NO. Danny doesn't have long fingers. Not Danny. This is not Danny._

Steve wasn't sure how it happened, but he was suddenly aware of a searing pain in his hand. He looked down, shocked to see that a small, leanly muscled hand had him in a thumb lock. From his awkward position in the front seat, he couldn't get leverage to try to gently break her grip, and he didn't want to risk hurting her. _Okay, consistently underestimated. Check._

"Jax, hey babe, it's okay." Danny put his hand on her good shoulder and shook gently.

Jax heard a hiss of pain in her left ear, and realized she was still locked on Danny's partner. _Commander. Oh, yeah. Military, not police. But partner is police. Danny's partner is military? Wait. Oh shit. This is why I hate concussions._ Jax opened her eyes, trying to get her bearings. _Okay, car, in front of a big building. Danny's building?_

"Babe, let go of Steve. It's okay, we've got you. You're okay." Danny continued to gently squeeze her good shoulder, as Steve grimaced in pain.

Steve felt the joint of his thumb give and slide out of place. Nothing he hadn't felt before but damn, if it didn't hurt. The pop seemed to register with Jax and she dropped his hand as if it was a burning coal.

"Sorry," she gasped, "what the hell are you doing?"

"He was checking for broken ribs, babe. He's a SEAL, you know, medic training; I wanted him to check you out, make sure you were okay."

"Danny, there is nothing okay about being trapped in the front seat of a Camaro getting groped by someone you hardly know, it doesn't matter how nice their hands are." _Oh, lovely. Where did THAT come from? Definitely the concussion._ "I have a concussion, Danny, a bruised collarbone, reset shoulder and a couple cracked ribs. Geez, I didn't know I needed to give you my medical records." Jax tried to reach for the door handle with her left hand, and couldn't stifle the gasp of pain that the twisting movement caused to her aching shoulder and ribs.

Steve cautiously put his good hand on Jax's knee. "Stop. You're hurting yourself. I'll get out, let Danny out, get you out, okay? Just sit still. One minute." He recognized the edge of panic; goodness knows he'd been there enough times himself: concussed, in pain, disoriented.

As Danny climbed out of the car behind Steve, he saw the SEAL grasp his thumb and heard a quiet pop, followed by a soft groan of pain. Danny cocked his head at Steve in question.

"She, um, dislocated my thumb." Steve mumbled as they moved around to the other side of the car. "You should probably be the one to get her out of the car. I'll get the bag out of the back."

"Sorry, man," Danny replied, but couldn't help grinning at the thought of his Super SEAL partner injured in first contact with his former rookie. "That's my girl."

()()()()()()()()

Under the guise of a tour, Danny and Steve escorted Jax slowly to the second floor of the Palace. Danny knew that she would actively resent the idea that they were moving slowly for her benefit, but it was obvious that her injuries combined with a long flight were taking a toll. She looked like she could hardly lift her SWAT-boot clad feet. _Cargo pants. Button down tossed casually over a tank._ _She looks like a little mini-Steve. What happened to professionalism on the east coast?_

Depositing Jax in his office, Danny stowed her duffel bag in the corner and headed to the break room to get the promised soft drink and crackers. Steve winced in sympathy as Jax gingerly eased herself down onto Danny's couch and debated whether or not to offer help. If it had been Kono, he would have been in familiar territory: help her despite her protests and pat her head affectionately. This was uncharted water: he'd already scared the crap out of Jax and she'd already dislocated his thumb. _So pretty much the whole hour I've known her has been an adrenaline rush for both of us. Okay, that's weird._

"This is an amazing facility. It's all for Five-0?" Jax questioned Steve, who had opted for leaning casually against Danny's desk and graciously pretending to ignore her awkward descent onto the couch; though he did not miss the soft exhale of relief once she was settled.

"Yeah, the governor didn't hold anything back. Definitely one of the better equipped law enforcement agencies I've seen. Chin and Kono really take point on all the tech stuff." Steve realized that they weren't in the office. "I guess they took a lunch hour. We don't have an active case at the moment; just endless paperwork and cold case files to review."

Danny appeared back in his office. "Here, get some caffeine and calories in you before you land on Max's table downstairs."

"Max?"

"Our coroner."

"You have your own? Impressive."

"Indeed. Now, sit, eat, and stop trying to deflect. You have some explaining to do." Danny was winding up to rant again. Steve smirked when Jax caught his eye with an expression that was equal parts "isn't-he-cute" and "please-save-me".

"Seriously, Danny, it's not a big deal." Jax mumbled around the edge of a cracker. "Couple guys got the drop on me, and by the time I righted the situation I may have been a bit overzealous. One of them filed a complaint. Case is under review, meanwhile I'm suspended with pay."

"So you decided to get on a plane after you got discharged from the hospital, and fly here? Because that was certainly the most comfortable option. What aren't you telling me? And what do you mean a couple of guys – you said "a perp". Singular. Now it's a couple?"

"Geez, Danny, you're such a frickin' detective. I got on a plane because I finally have six weeks paid vacation. I can go back, just put me back on the plane." Jax closed her eyes and pressed the cold soda can against her cheekbone. _Danny, just drop it. Please._

Steve couldn't help but admire her technique. _Takes one to know one; she picked the one question that really didn't matter to answer. Oh, and look, she's going for the jugular . . . Danny won't push her if she's hurting . . ._

"Jax, no, you're not going anywhere. Hey, are you hurting? Do you need something?" Danny softened his voice at the first visible acknowledgment of pain from Jax. "Did the hospital give you a prescription?"

Steve guessed where this was headed, and disappeared to his office.

"Um, no, I don't have a scrip, Danny. Just some aspirin or something if you've got it handy."

Steve walked back in and offered Jax a battered looking bottle of Motrin. "Grunt candy?" he asked quietly.

"Hunh. Yeah, thanks." Jax started to reach for the bottle and made a small sound of aggravation when she realized that between the sling and the pain threatening to overwhelm her that she was never going to navigate the cap. _Hold it together, for crying out loud._

"Here." Steve popped the lid off the bottle and tilted three tablets into Jax's good hand, grinning as she tossed them back and practically dry swallowed them. _Not her first rodeo, then._ Their eyes met and a flicker of recognition passed between them. Jax had the distinct impression that Steve saw straight through everything that she had been able to deflect with Danny. She closed her eyes. "Thanks", she said, not daring to look at Steve. _He sees too much._

"Sure. Danny, I'm going to get back to paperwork. Officer Nolan, take it easy, right?" Steve angled his head toward his own office, signaling Danny to follow him.

"Hey, kid, just settle in and relax for a little okay? Need anything else?" Danny crouched down to eye level with Jax and placed a gentle hand on her knee.

"Nah, I'm good Danno. I'm sorry . . . this really wasn't a good idea, just barging in here on you. I didn't mean to end up parked on my ass in your office. Is it a problem? I mean, what if you had been in the middle . . . I just wasn't thinking, Danny," Jax rasped.

"Hey, Rookie, stop worrying. I'm glad you're here. I'm not in the middle of a case, and it's fine. Let me go check in with Steve, okay, pass off the case I was reading to him, and we'll get out of here. Okay?" Danny's eyes crinkled in a genuine smile. He wasn't satisfied with Jax's explanation, but it was wonderful to have a piece of Jersey with him.

"Yeah. Danny – thanks." Jax met Danny's eyes . . . long enough for him to take note of the unequal dilation. _Score one for Steve, concussion confirmed_ , thought Danny.

Danny found Steve in his office, frowning at his computer. "Wheels of bureaucracy moving slowly, there, Steve?"

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. "You have no idea, Danny. How's Officer Nolan?" He absently rubbed at his thumb, which had already turned a nice shade of purple.

"She's a little worse for wear. You mind if I take off early this afternoon? Get her settled? I think she plans to stay for the duration of her suspension. I have no idea where . . . I'm starting to think she really did come here on an impulse."

"Yeah, that's fine." Steve hesitated, then added, "You think it's possible any trouble is going to follow her here? Did she tell you any more about what happened?"

"No, and normally I would say there's no way she would bring any trouble with her, but if she wasn't thinking clearly . . . I don't know, Steve. Something is definitely off."

Steve looked up as Kono and Chin walked back into the main office, then stood up as Chin motioned him to the smart table. "Looks like Chin has something."

Danny followed Steve out of his office and stood beside Kono, as Chin pulled up a file onto the plasma screen. "Kono and I have been out following up on this cold case. By the way, Danny, there is a small person asleep in your office."

"Yeah, friend from Jersey – long story. What's up with this case?"

Kono scanned another file onto the second plasma. "We pulled these files from HPD . . . a series of unexplained deaths in long-term care facilities. I don't think anyone at HPD connected the cases, but our database program picked up on some significant similarities."

Chin continued, "Seven patients at three facilities, hospitalized for non-life-threatening illnesses, all coded and died suddenly. All cause of deaths listed as "unknown". Reports were filed, but no charges. No suspects."

Kono pointed at the seven victims pictures on the screen. "Taken individually, the deaths were unfortunate and unexplained, but foul play apparently wasn't suspected. But take a look – seven victims, all female, none native, and most importantly, no close family members listed. One was a Jane Doe; the others had no history of visitors."

"Someone knew they wouldn't be missed," Steve mused. "They were alone on the island."

"Wow, that's depressing," Danny commented. "Do we have Max reviewing the files?"

Kono looked past Danny and smiled at Jax as she came out of Danny's office. "Hello."

Chin glanced up, took in Jax's battered appearance, and quirked an eyebrow at Steve, who shrugged and absently rubbed his thumb again. _Interesting,_ Chin thought, wondering if there was a connection.

"My former rookie, Officer Jax Nolan," Danny made introductions, "Jax, Officer Kono Kalakaua and Officer Chin Ho Kelly, both former HPD and now Five-O."

Jax extended her good hand to Kono and Chin in turn. "Nice to meet you both. Whatcha got, Danny? Serial killer?"

"Um, not sure. And you're definitely not part of the investigation, Jax," Danny said. "You're suspended, remember?"

"From NYPD," Jax grinned.

Danny started to argue but was interrupted by the arrival of an agitated Max, his lab coat fluttering behind him as he pushed through the double doors into the room.

"Officer Kalakaua, I have reviewed the autopsy reports of these seven people and I have discovered some alarming anomalies." Max handed Kono a thumb drive, and as she plugged it into the table, he noticed Jax for the first time.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I did not notice you standing there," Max stated, in his usual abrupt manner. "I assume from the bruising around your neck and your other injuries, that you are here being interviewed as a victim of a sexual assault. My apologies for interrupting. I will return at a later time."

Jax felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Kono and Chin glanced at her, then at Danny and Steve, confused. _Danny, if you hadn't thought of this, you are definitely too close to be objective,_ Steve thought, as he took in Danny's stricken expression.

Jax willed her voice steady, and avoiding Danny's eyes, replied, "Nope. Just a rough day at the office." She extended her good hand to Max. "Jax Nolan, NYPD."

Max accepted her statement at face value, as was his habit. "Very well then. Are you here investigating this case as well?"

"No, she is not," Danny inserted. "But please, tell us what you found."

"All of the deceased were listed as organ donors. And all were on ventilators. At some point, a massive brain event – a stroke, or an embolism – rendered them brain dead. But because of the ventilator, each patient was being so closely monitored that blood and oxygen flow was flawlessly maintained, thus making their organs viable for harvest and donation."

Danny wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Max, you sound just a little bit too impressed with this sick scenario."

"Detective Williams, if these are indeed victims of foul play, it is a remarkably well-executed plan."

Steve studied the pictures on the screen. Turning to Max, he asked, "So, where did the organs go?"

"That, I cannot tell you, Commander McGarrett. I believe that will require some warrants." Max looked to Chin, who nodded and started typing on the smart table.

"I'll get them, and follow up. But we do have reason to think that someone is deliberately killing victims who fit this profile, and apparently for their organs. Someone is profiting; we just need to know who, and how."

"Good work, guys," Steve nodded to Kono and Chin. "Chin, as soon as you get those warrants, let's focus on finding any possible connections between the organ recipients. Kono, see if you can dig up anything on the victims – any similarities, connections, commonalities."

Jax was squinting at the screen. "What are the dates of the murders?"

"No. You are not looking at the dates. You are not on this case, Jax. You are injured and clearly exhausted, and you are going to go to your hotel and get some rest." Danny squared off against Jax, getting in her line of sight on the screen. "Where were you planning to stay?"

_Oh. Yeah. That was supposed to be part of the plan. Damn concussion. I am so far off my game._

"Um, I guess I thought I would crash on your couch," Jax offered uncertainly.

Danny sighed and started toward his office, Jax falling in behind him. Steve found himself following, though he wasn't entirely sure why. This was really none of his business. But he was intrigued by this spitfire who fit into Gracie's sunglasses and dislocated his thumb.

"Jax, I'd love for you stay with me, I really would," sighed Danny. "You are going to need concussion checks – don't argue with me, your pupils are so unequal I don't know how you're standing, much less trying to connect victim stats. But it's a little complicated. I'm still fighting with Rachel over custody of Gracie. She would use anything against me at this point."

"Danny, it's not a big deal," Jax insisted. "I'll find an extended stay close by. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I put my forced desk time after 9/11 to good use, racked up a bunch of EMS training. I'm tac medic certified. I've had a concussion before, for goodness sakes, and I can change my own dressing." _Oops._

"DRESSING?" Danny exclaimed. Jax cringed, his raised voice bouncing off her aching head.

"She'll stay in my guest room," Steve blurted out.

_When did I decide this was a good idea?_ he wondered.

Danny's eyebrows shot up in shock. The SEAL was fairly solitary under the best of circumstances, and while he took great care of his team, had been notoriously grouchy when Danny crashed on his couch. Catherine had seemed welcome, off and on, though lately Danny had noticed their visits were increasingly rare, and increasingly strained.

"I can do a concussion check. And change dressings, which apparently is an issue. Plus . . ." Steve hesitated, "Look, I don't want to insult you, Officer Nolan, but are you sure that you've thought your visit here through clearly . . . is there any chance that anyone will have followed you? Someone who would like to finish what really looks like a sincere attempt to kill you? And if so, would that person be a threat not only to you, but to Gracie? I know you wouldn't want to take any chances."

Jax sank against Danny's desk. "No. But you're right – my being here could threaten Gracie if it complicates the custody situation. Danny, let me just go back. This was a mistake."

"Absolutely not," Danny leaned against the desk next to Jax, lending her some of his solid strength. Steve noticed that she relaxed into him immediately, if almost imperceptibly. "You're exactly where you need to be. Plus, I can vouch for Steve's excellent nursing care, having been the recipient of it a time or two myself. He may be a Neanderthal but he's good with . . . wait, what about these dressing changes. What on earth?"

"It's just a little, um, laceration. Couple of stitches." Jax shrugged her good shoulder.

"Everything is little with you, Jax. Little run-in, little suspension, little laceration."

"Well, she's a little person," Steve couldn't help himself.

"Shut up," came the duet of Danny and Jax.

"Fine," Steve grinned back at them. "So, how about we go back to my place, and get Jax settled. I'll throw some steaks on the grill tonight; we'll make an early evening of it. Come back tomorrow and regroup, because Chin and Kono will probably have some leads for us by then."

"Sounds good," Danny replied, looking at Jax for confirmation. She wearily nodded her head. Honestly she was just too tired to argue. Danny trusted Steve implicitly, she could tell, and that was good enough for her. They had swapped enough stories over the last couple of years for her to know that Danny would follow Steve into hell itself. Danny was the only person who had inspired that sort of confidence from Jax.

Danny grabbed her duffle bag and handed Jax her backpack, and she followed him out of the office. "Danny, can I please get my weapon back?" She didn't mean for it to come out sounding so pitiful.

"No, it is locked in my office until you can see straight enough to shoot. Steve is well-armed, I assure you."

Steve paused at the smart table and spoke to Kono and Chin. "I'm going to head out with Danny, get Officer Nolan settled. We'll see you first thing in the morning; you should have warrants by then, and we will see where the leads take us."

"Sure, boss," replied Kono, smiling at Jax. "It was very nice to meet you, Officer Nolan. Aloha. I hope we see you again."

"Yes, aloha," said Chin. "Welcome to the island."

"Thanks," Jax replied. "Hey, all of the victims are female. That's significant, right? Did you check to see if –"

"Say goodbye, Jax," Danny interrupted.

"Goodbye Jax," she mumbled, disgruntled, and followed him out the door that Steve was holding open.

()()()()()()()()

As they neared the parking lot, Steve tossed Danny the keys to the Camaro.

"Meet you at the house, Danny."

Once he was in his truck, Steve placed a call to Chin. Something was nagging at him. "Chin, hey, I know the warrants on those health care deaths are first priority . . . but do me a favor, would ya? Pull a file on Officer Jacqueline Nolan, NYPD. No, I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Just . . . something isn't right. Yeah, I'll talk to Danny, just pull it quietly, okay? I'll check in with you later. Thanks."

Jax let Danny help her into the car. She even sat quietly and allowed him to fasten her seatbelt. Danny went straight from concerned to alarmed. It wasn't in Jax's nature to be remotely passive.

They drove in silence for a few moments. Danny kept thinking about Max's assumption. How had he missed that? He was a detective, for crying out loud. All of the signals were there. The choke hold, the injuries, the way she jumped a mile when Steve came through the conference room door.

"Danny. Stop thinking so loud." Jax mumbled from the passenger seat.

"Jax . . . what Max said . . ." Danny halted over the words. "Was he . . . were you . . ."

"Danny, I'm fine," Jax said quietly, placing her good hand on Danny's knee. "Really. I promise."

Danny let it drop. _Coward,_ he thought, _she didn't answer you. You don't want to know._

"It's beautiful." Danny thought Jax was asleep, again, until she spoke. "The island. It's beautiful."

"It's a pineapple infested volcano, and don't you forget it, Jersey," Danny grinned.

"Not Jersey, anymore, Danny," Jax replied.

"Yeah, yeah, you moved up in the world, to NYPD, I know, Rookie."

She didn't reply. _I don't think I'm NYPD anymore, babe._

()()()()()()()()

Danny had driven slowly, in light of Jax's injuries, but also so that she could enjoy some of the scenery on the way to Steve's house. When they arrived, the late afternoon sun had warmed the entire house and yard to a soft glow.

"Wow."

"Pineapple infested, Jersey girl. Don't sell out on me, now." Danny pulled her bags out of the trunk and paused to help Jax out of the car. It was getting increasingly difficult, and he winced in sympathy as every movement affected her injuries.

They entered the front of the house, as Danny called out for Steve.

"He must be out back," he said, dropping Jax's bags in the guest room and motioning for her to follow him out the back door.

"Wow," she said again. "Really, this is amazing."

Steve watched as Jax walked straight toward the water. Danny rolled his eyes in annoyance. "She's in love with your island, Steve. Total sell-out." Steve noticed that Danny's face softened, looking at Jax, as the sun and humidity did amusing things with her hair.

"Here, have a seat," Steve motioned toward the worn chairs near the water. He had already tossed a thick beach towel over one, hoping to make it slightly more comfortable.

"Don't be a stubborn ass, and let me help you," Danny said, extending his hand to Jax. For once, she listened and held on to him as she lowered herself into the chair. Jax stared out over the water, entranced. Steve couldn't help but grin at Danny. Some people took to the island instantly, and it pleased him to no end that Danny's former rookie apparently fell into that category.

"I'll grab us some drinks and fire up the grill. Be back in a few." Steve strode toward the house as Danny sat down next to Jax.

"Okay, it's pretty," he grudgingly admitted. "Gracie loves it here."

"How is Gracie? Could you really lose custody?" Jax asked.

"My lawyer is optimistic. And expensive," Danny commented wryly.

"I don't want to complicate things, Danny. I just . . . I didn't know where else to go. I needed to get away from New York, you know?"

"This one really shook you up, kid. I wish you would tell me the whole story. I know there has to be more to it. I've seen you take worse hits than this. Except for that bruising around your neck. I've never seen that . . . not sure that I would ever have been prepared to see that, Jax."

"Danny, it's really not complicated. I told you. I'm fine, really. I just haven't had any downtime and it caught up to me. This will be great; I'll get rested up, I'll get a tan. Or, you know, freckles. Whatever."

Steve returned with three Longboards in each hand. "Hey, no beer for Jax, alcohol and painkillers don't mix," Danny protested.

"No prescriptions, remember, Danno?" Jax grinned at Steve in thanks as he handed her a bottle. As his hand passed in front of her, she caught a glimpse of this thumb. The bruising was dark purple against his tan, the swelling was slight but still obvious. _Such nice hands, even damaged. Nice gentle rib checking hands._ Jax gave herself a firm mental shake. _Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?_

"Oh, Commander McGarrett," Jax started, "Really, I'm so sorry . . ."

"No worries, really, and please, call me Steve. Seriously, it's not a problem. You were disoriented and startled. Don't give it a second thought."

"So, I know how Danny ended up here . . . he followed Grace. Tell me how you came to Hawaii."

Almost an hour passed in companionable conversation. Danny was pleased to note that Jax seemed relaxed and even in less pain. She ate the kabobs that Steve grilled, knowing from his own experience that food in small pieces on a stick would be easier to manage, and took another couple of Motrin that appeared magically along with a glass of water.

As the sun set, Danny stood to leave. "I don't get Grace this evening, but I can swing by and say goodnight to her. Think I'll do that. You okay from here, Jax?"

"Yeah, I'm good Danny. Thanks. Pick me up in the morning, or should I ride in with Steve?"

"Um, what you should be doing in the morning is sleeping, Jax. Sleeping, and drinking some sort of awful herbal tea which I'm sure Steve must have, knowing him, to take care of your throat. You still sound terrible."

"Danny, I can not possibly sit at home all day. I will go stark raving crazy. I can't swim, I can't drive, I will go nuts."

"Oh, NOW you want to point out that you need help; what happened to being perfectly fine by yourself and changing your own dressings, which, by the way, Steven, I do NOT want to know about because I honestly do not need that image in my head, okay?"

"Guys," Steve interjected. "I will bring Jax in with me in the morning, if she is feeling up to it. There's plenty to do at HQ, she won't get bored, and there'll be someone there all day, even if we have to go out."

"Okay, okay fine. Steven, please do not forget to do a concussion check, somehow even her thick skull has not protected her. I will see both of you crazy ninja people in the morning, then."

"Goodnight, Danny," Jax rasped. The conversation had distracted her, but had increased the hoarseness in her voice. Danny frowned. "Herbal tea of some sort, right?"

"Yeah, Danny, I got it," Steve nodded.

"What am I going to do with you, you big goof?" Danny leaned down and kissed Jax on the top of her head, tousled her hair, and then walked back to his car.

Jax and Steve sat for a while, until Steve realized she was dozing and he did not want to risk having to wake her up in an unfamiliar place. He suspected there would be enough of that all night, anyway.

"Let's get you settled, Jax," he offered, holding out a hand to help her up. She accepted reluctantly.

"Thanks . . . just stiff and sore, really. I'm sure I'll be so much better tomorrow."

"Umm hmm," Steve was noncommittal. He knew pretty much exactly how she'd feel tomorrow, and it wasn't going to be much better. "What do you need, to be comfortable tonight?"

"A shower would be great. I'd sorta like to wash the remnants of New York off of me. Oh, and then I'll need help changing this stupid dressing, if you don't mind? Despite Danny's theatrics, it's really not a big deal. I think I have plenty of stuff in my bag."

"No problem. I have a kit."

"Oh, yeah. SEAL. I'm sure you could perform an appendectomy on your kitchen table if you had to."

"Only if I had to," Steve grinned. "Guest room, here, I see Danny put your bags in there. Guest bath is right next door. Clean towels are there."

Steve sat down at his desk and pulled up his email, half an ear listening for any sounds of distress from the bathroom. He heard a couple of muffled curses which made him wince in sympathy and smile. Boots were a pain in the ass to deal with one-handed and he had wondered how she was going to get hers off. Stubborn, she should have asked him.

He clicked on an email from Chin. Sure enough, it was Jax's file. He hesitated. She wasn't a case, she was Danny's friend. Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes. He heard the water turn off in the shower; heard a few thumps and muttered swear words as Jax sorted herself out with her sore shoulder. _Right. Not a case. I'll ask her some direct questions, see if I can get some direct answers. Then I'll look at the file._

Steve went into the kitchen and flipped on the coffee maker. Remembering Danny's request for tea for Jax, he pulled the box down from the cabinet, and set out two generous mugs.

"Um, hi, I have . . . could you . . ."

Steve heard Jax pad quietly into the kitchen behind him and turned. She was in the doorway, a handful of gauze pads and tube of antibiotic cream raised toward him. Without the added height from her boots and the added bulk of cargo pants, she looked positively fragile . . . the bruising around her neck stood out in sharp relief in an oversized v-neck t-shirt, and the NYPD gym shorts revealed some deep scratches and abrasions just above her knees. She wasn't wearing the sling but held her arm protectively around her ribs.

In an instant, every single one of the many protective switches in one Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett were flipped – hard. He took in a sharp breath, as he was overwhelmed with simultaneous urges to pull her into the safety of his arms and to find whoever left those bruises and kill them with his bare hands. _Danny might be right, I might be a Neanderthal._

"Danny is right?" Jax raised a curious eyebrow.

_I'm hoping I said that out loud. The alternative is that she's reading my mind and I'm not sure that's a good idea._

"Once in a while, don't tell him I said that though," Steve replied. "Danny ordered tea for the lady, right?"

Jax wrinkled her nose. "Coffee?" she countered.

Steve looked dubiously between her and the coffee pot.

"We won't tell Danny," she said. "Please? I'm a cop. I need coffee. And that smells really, really good."

"You haven't had coffee until you've had Hawaii's finest," Steve replied, pouring her a generous cup. "Need anything in it?"

"Hmm, no, black is great. Um, I couldn't reach . . . would you mind . . ." she held out the gauze pads as she reached for the coffee.

"Yeah, absolutely. Where?"

Jax set her coffee on the counter in front of her, reached her good hand around and pulled down the top edge of her gym shorts. Steve saw the top edge of a line of stiches extending above a wrinkled bandage on her right hip. "I just can't reach . . . this stupid shoulder."

"I got it." Steve pulled the waistband of her shorts away and gently down a few inches. "Jax, this is not a little laceration. I'm counting at least fourteen stitches."

Jax took a sip of her coffee. "Yeah, about that many. This is really amazing coffee."

"Changing the subject isn't going to work as well with me as it does with Danny. This looks like a knife wound." Steve added the antibiotic cream as gently as possible, but Jax couldn't help but flinch. "Sorry, almost done." He opened the fresh bandage and smoothed it over the wound, carefully pulling the shorts back into place above it.

Jax stayed turned toward the counter, sipping her coffee. Steve poured himself a mug, and pulled out two barstools at the island.

"Sit down. Please."

Jax eased onto the barstool.

"Danny is worried about you," Steve stated. Jax nodded, looking into her mug.

"This means I'm worried about Danny. I can't worry about Danny, worrying about you. That's two of us distracted and we have a case coming up."

Jax looked up, expecting to see disapproval, but only concern was reflected in Steve's eyes.

"Look, Danny and I both know you're more injured than you're willing to admit. There are huge holes in your story. Now, I can respect your privacy and I can understand if there are things that you don't want to share with Danny, or if what has happened to you is difficult to talk about. But I have to protect my team, including Danny, and I can't do that if he's distracted. So I need some answers, and I'd rather get them from you." Steve hesitated, then added, "Before I get them from your file. You have to know I have access."

Jax sighed. "From Danny's description of your team, I half figured you'd have pulled it already."

"It's on my laptop. I haven't opened it. Thought I'd give you the courtesy of direct questions first."

"Fair enough. Okay, have at it." Jax studied her coffee with intensity.

"Why aren't you telling Danny what happened?"

"I told him what happened – I was outnumbered and got the crap beat out of me. I'm going to be fine. That's what happened."

"That's the what. You haven't explained the who. I don't believe that those fingerprints around your neck are from some random thugs. That's too personal. Who did this to you, and why don't you want Danny to know?"

"Look, Danny feels responsible for everyone. You have to know this by now. He wants to keep everyone safe. He will always blame himself for Grace, and he will always feel responsible for me. Taking a few hits is part of the job, he can accept that. He could never . . . if he knew . . ." Jax paused. "I can't have him coming back to New York and looking to settle a score. It's just better if he doesn't know. It's being handled."

"What if New York follows you here, Jax?" Steve was becoming frustrated.

"Not gonna happen. They would never show their face near Danny, they know he would . . ."Jax stopped short. She was suddenly deeply invested in her coffee.

"Oh my God, Jax, you knew them. You knew the guys that did this. Danny knows them?" Steve was putting the pieces together. "Other officers. These bastards were NYPD, weren't they? Does Danny know them?"

Jax tried to take a deep breath and winced as her ribs and collarbone twinged. "If we're going to get in to this, could I have more coffee?" She held her mug toward Steve.

Steve turned away toward the coffee maker, knowing that his barely suppressed rage was not going to contribute to getting the rest of the story from Jax. He took a couple of calming breaths before he turned back around, handing Jax her mug.

"Okay. Tell me what inspired some of your fellow officers to use you as a punching bag, please, because I would like to know in what universe that should happen," Steve began sarcastically, "and then tell me exactly why it isn't entirely appropriate for Danny to go back to New York and kick their asses. Because frankly, I would like to go help him."

"I finished my training the week before 9/11. That's why I wasn't with Danny that day. I had just been assigned to a different precinct, different team. Of course, everyone from everywhere poured into the city. I ended up at Ground Zero, and I guess I made myself useful, because that November, I had a job offer at NYPD. They were creating a new position; two officers in each precinct who had a certain skill set and could be assigned to any team: SVU, undercover, SWAT , IA. Sort of a cop-of-all-trades. I accepted the job." Jax shifted a little on the stool.

"I'm listening," Steve said, as he got up and reached for a bottle of Motrin in the kitchen cabinet. "Danny said you had crazy stories from all different departments, that makes sense. Are you sure you don't need something stronger? Didn't the hospital give you a scrip?"

"Thanks, this is fine. I hate narcotics, they make me loopy." Jax held out her hand for Steve to shake a couple of tablets out of the bottle. "Yeah, so that's my job. SWAT needs someone who can fit into tight spaces. SVU needs someone unintimidating to talk to victims. Undercover . . . well, let's just say I don't immediately make people suspicious that I'm a cop. I don't exactly look the part." Jax tossed back the Motrin with a sip of coffee.

"I helped in a few key cases, promoted rather quickly. Six months ago, I decided to apply to SWAT. It was getting exhausting, trying to make everyone happy. And I never had a partner, and I wanted that. After working with Danny and Grace . . . I wanted to feel like someone had my back. I knew all the EMS certifications would qualify me to take tac medic. Plus, SWAT is . . . more straightforward, you know?" Jax glanced up at Steve, smirking. Danny's stories usually involved some variation of Steve kicking down a door or blowing something up.

Steve grinned back, "Yeah, I get that."

"I got it. I got the SWAT position. Problem was, four of us had applied. The three guys that didn't get it took exception to a girl half their size and with fewer years on the force taking the spot, decided to put me in my place. I fought back, held my own until another officer came looking for me when I didn't answer my phone for a call out to a case." Jax swirled her coffee around, not meeting Steve's eyes.

Steve thought of what Max had said, looked at the distinct fingerprints bruising Jax's neck.

"How long? How long did you hold your own, Jax?" Steve looked at Jax's hands curled around her mug, noticed the bruising on her right knuckles that had been hidden by the sling.

"Um, I'm not sure. It seemed like a long time. But maybe just an hour, I guess?" She still refused to meet his eyes.

"You have to know what I'm going to assume," Steve said gently. "The injuries are consistent, the timeline . . ."

Jax finally met Steve's eyes, and he felt as though the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He marveled that she was composed enough to sit quietly in his kitchen, that she had trusted him to change her bandage. _Of course, she dislocated your thumb first, maybe she got it out of her system._

"Steve, it would kill Danny. He doesn't need to know anything. I got outnumbered, I fought, I took a few hits, and I'll be fine. That's all he needs to know. He can't carry around any more guilt. Somehow, he will convince himself that there was something he could have done from halfway around the world. And he will want to go deal with something, and he can't do that. He has to stay here and be here for Gracie and make sure his custody of her is secure. I shouldn't have come but . . ." Jax faltered.

Steve hesitantly reached out a finger and gently rubbed over the bruised knuckles. "Why did you come? Why here?"

"I had to get away from NYPD. Once someone showed up and the situation was under control, I got in a few extra kicks. One asshole I knew from Jersey; he went on about how Danny should have taught me my place in training. He actually filed charges against me, because he was technically in custody and subdued. You know, zip tied. IA is involved, and legal . . . I'm told that I'll be held to a different standard than a civilian, that I should have known when the fight was over and walked away. I'm suspended, I don't know if I'll have a job . . . I don't know if I can be there anymore. Once something like this happens . . . I've seen it. The guys look at you different, treat you different. I don't know that I can take that."

"I understand that you needed to get away from New York. Why here, specifically, if you didn't want Danny to know?" Steve asked.

"Instinct," Jax whispered. "I was operating on adrenaline and instinct, and Danny . . ."

"Danny is safe?" Steve guessed.

"Yes."

"But then you realized that you had to keep Danny safe, by not telling him."

Jax looked up in relief, "Yes, exactly; see, you understand."

Steve shook his head sadly. "I understand that you are trying to protect Danny. But you're going about it the wrong way. Keeping this from him – this will hurt him. When he finds out the whole story, and he will, he's going to go ballistic either way. By not trusting him with this, you're betraying him."

Jax flinched as if she had been struck. On some level, she knew Steve was right, but between the exhaustion, pain, fatigue, and concussion she just couldn't sort it out.

She hadn't realized that she was crying until Steve reached up and wiped a tear from her bruised cheek, brushing aside her hair which had dried into reckless curls.

"Hey, it's okay. It's going to be okay. You are safe here, you know that right? We are family here, and you are special to Danny, so that makes you special to us. We'll figure this out, I promise. Now, in the meantime, what year is it, and how many fingers am I holding up?" Steve decided to set the heavy conversation aside with a concussion check.

()()()()()()()()

Steve ensured that Jax was as comfortable as could be expected, sleeping in a strange place, and then went back to his laptop and pulled up her file.

Sure enough, she had made herself quite useful on 9/11. She had been in the thick of the action, responsible for at least two civilian saves, and had administered first aid to several officers before being injured herself. Her career was less than a week old and she had earned her first of many commendations.

Steve read through the positive reviews from all of her superiors, though he noted that several had commented on her temper and short fuse. _Well, that riot of red hair, what did they expect?_

He clicked through several more attachments until he got to the most recent hospital report which had been added to her file, with a note from her immediate superior that it was to be considered material as defense against the "completely reprehensible and inexcusable charges brought against her". He got through the first few lines describing the concussion, collarbone, and shoulder injuries. He swallowed hard as he read about the knife wound; there were actually seventeen stitches, and he made a mental note that they had not used dissolvable sutures – those things were going to have to come out at some point.

He skimmed through the rest; closing his eyes and slamming the laptop shut when he got to the line that read "bruising and superficial lacerations consistent with . . .". He didn't want to know any more. She was right, this would absolutely kill Danny. Hell, he'd only known her for a day and he wanted to throw up, punch a wall, and swim for an hour just to wash the idea off of him.

Steve sighed and headed up the stairs to his room, wondering how much sleep either of them would get that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**tuesday**

The sun was barely up when Steve heard the unmistakable sound of retching from the guest bathroom. He sat up quickly and grabbed a shirt, ready to lend a hand if necessary, but giving Jax space and time to get herself together. Listening intently, he heard what sounded like a quiet sob, and then running water and the sound of some pretty vigorous toothbrushing.

Steve listened as Jax padded down the hall and out the back door; following after a few moments, he looked out and saw her standing at the edge of the water. _Hunh, Danno, your rookie is drawn to the water. Sorry pal, she loves my island._

He made a fresh pot of coffee and took two mugs out to the water.

"Hey, Jax." Steve handed a mug to Jax, who had her toes in the water.

"Ummm thank you," Jax said as she accepted the coffee gratefully.

"No sling?" Steve questioned.

"Makes me crazy. I can't decide if it helps or just makes the other side of my collarbone hurt."

"Copy that," Steve replied, sipping his own coffee. "You okay? Sounded like your morning was off to a rough start."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Guess that was the last of the concussion. I really feel a lot better now."

"Ummhmm." Steve raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "How's the water?," he asked, nodding at her feet.

Jax looked down, almost surprised. She hadn't realized she had waded in. "I guess it's pretty amazing," she smiled up at Steve, her face lighting up with joy in the morning sun.

 _Whoa._ Several adjectives volleyed for supremacy in Steve's stream of consciousness, with _stunning_ winning first place. _Get in the water and swim, Steve. The nice cold water. Danny. Remember she's Danny's rookie._

"Swim. I mean, I'm going to swim. You can't. Stitches."

Jax frowned at Steve's incoherence. "Right. I'll go get geared up for work . . . I mean, to ride to Five-O. To do whatever the hell it is suspended cops do. Here, I'll take your mug."

Steve handed the mug off to Jax and peeled off his shirt in one fluid movement, moved into the water, and was shoulder deep and swimming in no time. Jax stood watching for a few moments.

 _Nice . . . ink. Yeah._ _Totally just admiring the tats_. She shook her head and walked back to the house.

()()()()()()()()

Jax and Steve emerged from the house, dressed and ready for the day, armed with coffee. Jax was still squinting in the sunlight, but she was relieved that it didn't cause the splitting headache that it had yesterday.

"I have an extra pair of sunglasses in the truck," Steve motioned toward the vehicle.

Jax looked dubiously at the truck. "Overcompensating much?" she murmured.

"Excuse me?!" Steve retorted indignantly. Danny had said something incredibly similar when they first met.

Jax looked equal parts horrified and sheepish. "Um, nothing . . . nice truck," she amended lamely.

Steve went around to the driver's side, shaking his head and muttering something about damn Jersey cops and their insults. Jax opened the passenger side and was still studying out the logistics of climbing in when she heard a short laugh from Steve.

"Problem, Officer Nolan?" he drawled. _Overcompensating. That'll teach her . . . wow, the running board is about at her knee cap . . . and she's got no leverage with her right shoulder . . . aw hell, I'm such an ass._

"No, no problem," she snapped. Steve looked chagrined, and moved to get out. "Don't you dare. Stay right where you are, I am perfectly capable of getting into the truck myself." With that, Jax stepped up backwards, awkwardly, and landed on the seat. She reached out to pull the door closed and bit back a sharp curse, her face paling with pain.

"If nothing else, the sling would remind you to be careful with that shoulder and collarbone while they heal," Steve chided gently. Jax favored him with a glare. He reached across her to pull the door closed, and snagged the seatbelt to pull across her while he was at it. He caught the scent of her hair, a mix between honeysuckle and . . . _gunpowder?_

Jax let her head thump back on the seat of the car, wincing as she aggravated the lump on the back of her head. Today was not off to a good start.

"Okay, let's go see what Kono and Chin have found for us," Steve stated. He had a million questions for Jax, wanted to shake her and demand that she talk to Danny, wanted to go to New York and personally put some people behind bars . . . after a brief stay in the hospital . . . but the case would be up and rolling.

Jax perked up at the mention of the case. "I'm still wondering if there is something significant about all of the victims being female. I mean, a liver is a liver is a liver, right? So, there's bound to be something . . . "

"Um, when I said, 'us' . . . Danny will shoot us both if you try to get involved in this case. He's like a mother hen when someone's injured. You have to know that from experience."

"I take it you've been on the receiving end of Nurse Danny, then?" Jax asked, amused.

"More than once," Steve grinned. "He seems to hold the opinion that I am a trouble magnet."

"We seem to have that in common. The first time I got shot, Danny was still in Jersey, of course. Lots of NYPD cops came out of Jersey, so someone dropped the dime on me and called Danny. He burst into the ER, arms flailing, ranting to beat the band." Jax sobered. "I think Rachel was furious with him. Gracie was just tiny, I think she had an ear infection or something. And Danny left on his evening off to come check on me. I'm glad he went home last night, stopped to see Gracie. I don't want to complicate . . ." Jax stopped short. She realized that it was Steve offering for her to stay at his house that helped avoid at least a part of that, and she hadn't even . . .

"Oh wow . . . I haven't even thanked you. This really was above and beyond, but thank you. Thanks for letting me stay with you, so that Danny wouldn't have to explain to Rachel. She remembers me, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me."

 _No, seriously, why not?_ Steve thought to himself. _Because I can't imagine why someone wouldn't like a fireball who smells like honeysuckle and gunpowder racing around town with their husband, shooting things and sharing that adrenaline rush . . . okay, whoa, Commander. Danny's. Danny's rookie. You do not need to be noticing that she smells good._

Steve forced his attention back to what Jax was saying . . . ". . . find a place, you know, somewhere to stay for the rest of my visit, get out of your hair. I meant to call ahead and find something, but I checked out of the hospital early and just grabbed the first flight."

"Checked out? You mean discharged?" Steve questioned.

"Uh, didn't exactly get discharged. Sorta left."

"Signed out AMA?"

No response.

"You know, signed yourself out, even though they wanted you to stay?" Steve tried again.

"Yeah, not exactly. I just took out the IV when it was done and left." Jax tried an expression of . . . _fuzzy kitten innocent_ , Steve's brain was helpfully supplying adjectives again.

Steve snorted. "So, you don't have instructions for your sutures? Like, when you're supposed to have them taken out?"

"Some over-eager intern flagged me as potentially non-compliant and refused to use dissolvable. Can't believe that. I haven't had to have stitches removed in ages."

Steve looked at her incredulously. "Danny wasn't shitting me, then. You really are crazy – how often do you get stitches?"

"A lot. And don't pretend that you don't, Danny tells me."

Steve and Jax looked at each other, and in perfect unison, said, "Hunh."

Steve sighed, reluctant to kill the good mood, but they were almost at HQ. "You know, you really are going to have to talk to Danny, Jax. I'm serious. You can't keep him in the dark."

Jax looked out the window. "He knows all he needs to know – I got hurt and I got suspended. I came here to heal up and wait for the word from legal. I'm sorry that I dumped on you last night . . . you don't need to worry about me or about Danny, so you can just focus on the case. Really, everything will be fine."

Steve was starting to understand why Danny always pitched a fit when he insisted things were fine.

()()()()()()()()

"You think coffee at my house was good," Steve said to Jax, as they entered the building, "wait until you taste Kono's. We don't know what she does to it, but it's the best."

Danny was already in his office, and came out when he saw Steve and Jax enter. He folded Jax into a gentle hug and kissed the top of her head. "Sleep well, kid? How's the head? How's the shoulder? Steve didn't have you up training for a triathlon this morning?"

"No, we're discussing the next Spartan race . . . coming up in what, a month, Steve? For sure before my six weeks are up."

Danny blinked and spluttered. "Steven, you can not possibly . . . why would you encourage . . . "

He stopped at the matching smirks on Steve and Jax faces. "Oh, so this is how it is? The two of you crazy adrenaline junkies are going to gang up on me?"

"I've got something for the adrenaline junkies," said Chin as he walked in, Kono right behind him.

"You have leads on the organ recipients, then?" asked Steve.

"Yes, and Kono went over the files with Max again," Chin replied, as he flashed information onto the plasma screens. "All of the organ recipients checked out completely legit – the organ donations were handled through completely legal channels, no money exchanged hands, there is NOTHING to indicate that the organ donations were orchestrated or otherwise tampered with."

Danny was incredulous. "Then these seven victims . . . it was coincidence? Random?"

"No way, brah," Kono answered. "All of the *organ* donations were legit. The fact that all of the victims had their eggs harvested, now that's a different story."

"Eggs?" Steve was confused.

"Ovum, you Neanderthal. You know, the part that hooks up with the other part to make babies? Do we need to go back to junior high school?" Danny shook his head in amusement. The super SEAL could take out an entire platoon of enemy soldiers, but this was going to make him squirm.

"Yes, Danny, I am familiar with the basic procedure," Steve sniped back. "I'm not familiar with egg donation. I take it that's not a normal, um, donation?"

"No; life-saving organs are donated. Human eggs can be harvested from living donors but that procedure is not part of organ donation from patients taken off life-support due to brain death," Chin explained, nodding to Max, who had entered the room and was standing at the table.

"Indeed, it is most unusual," Max interjected, "Now, sperm donation is very common, especially around college campuses, where male students benefit from a token payment for their donation. Egg harvest, however, is a more complicated and invasive procedure. Sperm donation requires no complicated procedure –"

"YES Max we get the picture," Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. Sometimes the conversations in this place were just . . . weird. Kono was smirking at him, and that was never a good sign. He steered the conversation back to the case. "Okay, so this is unusual, then – are you saying that these women were killed so that their eggs could be harvested? And if they're usually harvested from living donors, why kill them?"

"To prevent discovery, maybe, or maybe this guy is just a complete and total whack job," Kono replied.

"It's not a good reason to commit murder, but we've seen more people killed for less, brah," added Chin.

"Okay, so how do we catch this bastard?" asked Danny.

"Put me in, undercover." The four Five-O members turned to Jax. They were so caught up in the case they had almost forgotten she was standing there, quietly. "I'm female. I'm clearly not native. I've only been on the island 24 hours, and outside you guys I've only met a couple of security officers at the airport, and I really doubt either of them are our guy. Put me in, undercover. It makes perfect sense. Besides, I've been told I look like shit and need to rest. So, I'll rest. In a hospital bed, even. My shoulder will heal right up."

As the task force looked dumbfounded, Max chimed in, "Officer Nolan's recent injuries would make for an excellent cover. The bruising is quite spectacular, and one could assume that there was enough blunt force trauma to render her unconscious; and as all of the victims were on ventilators, it would not be a stretch to think that the damage done to her throat had hindered her breathing. Also, from the way she is guarding her ribs, broken ribs with a resulting lung puncture could also explain the necessity of a ventilator. It is actually a quite logical and medically effective cover story. And also, as Officer Nolan has pointed out, she is injured and should be recuperating. It's logical, effective, and quite efficient."

"No way. No. This is not going to happen," Danny began pacing and gesturing. He looked at Steve to back him up. "No – not you, Steven. You are not going to get on board with this crazy idea."

Danny looked to Chin and Kono, who both shrugged. "It does kinda make sense, brah," Kono said.

"What are the dates of the murders?" Jax asked.

Chin pulled up the information. "First one six months ago, about one a month, but two in the last month."

"We don't have time. This guy is escalating. Put me in." Jax was avoiding looking at Danny, instead focusing with calm intensity on Steve.

"Oh no, I've seen this look before, from both of you. Every time, every time I've seen this look, from either of you, someone, often me, has been shot at," complained Danny.

Steve ignored the comments around him and searched Jax eyes for doubt, for hesitancy. There was none. The only thing he saw was a determination to end something evil . . . and an unfailing trust that he and Danny would not let anything happen to her. And damn, if that didn't make him stop breathing for just a moment.

"Okay." He said it quietly, with a small nod. Danny threw up his hands in exasperation. Chin looked a little confused. Kono smirked . . . _Hmm: chemistry._

"Two conditions," Steve continued, his stormy blue eyes boring into Jax's. "You let us come up with the plan, and you follow it exactly. No crazy shit on this one. Oh, don't look at me that way . . . Danny's told me the stories and I recognize reckless when I see it." _Like every damn time I look in the mirror._ "And you have a conversation with Danny. A real one."

Jax's eyes widened and Steve saw fear for the first time. _Totally unafraid of risking your life, but terrified to let someone know you're hurt, hunh? Yeah, well, takes one to know one._

"It's non-negotiable," Steve said, using what Danny referred to as his super-scary SEAL voice.

"Okay. Both conditions." Steve couldn't quite read the look in Jax's eyes. Relief? Betrayal? Resignation? Regardless, he was convinced that she had to tell Danny the whole story, before he found out another way and the whole thing blew up in their faces.

Danny looked curiously between Steve and Jax. He felt sure he was not privy to something between the two of them, that involved a serious conversation to come. Steve simply nodded to him and said, "Can you come over to the house tonight, Danny?"

Danny glanced at Jax, who was suddenly completely engrossed in something on the screen, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, Steve." He decided the best course of action was to focus on the case. _Denial,_ he thought to himself, _it's not just a river in Egypt._

()()()()()()()()

The rest of the day was spent in putting together a plan to admit Jax to the facility where three of the seven murders had taken place. Kono, Chin, and Max kept busy with paperwork, technical, and medical details. As everyone stood around the smart table, searching files for any additional information to build Jax as the "perfect victim", the head of the hospital cooperating with the undercover operation called in.

Chin put the video call up on the main plasma screen.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Bryson, thank you for calling."

"Thank you; thank you for putting this together. We really don't want to lose another patient and we will do anything we can to help you find this guy," the doctor nodded, his face grim. It was bad enough to lose patients to fatal injuries; the idea of murders taking place on his watch had him distraught. "I need to discuss with you how we will simulate the condition of your undercover officer. Some things we will be able to fake, such as IVs that aren't connected, but I understand that all of the victims have been on ventilators, is that correct?"

"Yes," replied Max. "We believe that victims on ventilators were chosen for two purposes – one, to keep the victims silent, and two, to ensure that as they were organ donors, their organs would indeed be able to be successfully donated. We believe the killer was using the organ donation as a smokescreen for the true objective, which was the harvesting of the eggs to be sold on the black market. "

"Well, that's going to be a bit of an issue," explained the doctor. "We can't really fake a ventilator. Your officer will have to be sedated and the ventilator tubing put in place; although she will actually be breathing on her own. I understand the officer has been recently injured, with a concussion?"

"Officer Nolan also has some soft tissue damage to her throat," Max supplied helpfully.

Jax shot him a glare but spoke up, "Yeah, the worst of it is over, though."

"I need to be the judge of that, Officer Nolan. "

"Please, call me Jax. Tell me what you need."

"Well, I need a complete and accurate medical history, for starters, and your records from your recent injuries. This is non-negotiable, officer – I appreciate your willingness more than I can express, but I will not take risks with your health," the doctor said sternly.

Jax looked up at Steve, a flicker of panic in her eyes. This was going south fast; this was not how she wanted Danny to find out what had happened in New York, and she really didn't need the added burden of the sympathy of Chin and Kono. Funny, Steve's sympathy hadn't felt like a burden; talking to him had felt like . . . relief.

"You don't have to do this," Steve said quietly. Danny looked up in surprise . . . since when did Steve back down from a crazy-ass idea?

"Yes, I do," Jax replied. "There's no time to put another option in place."

"Chin, put this call into my office," Steve said. "Officer Nolan – with me."

Chin complied, quirking an eyebrow at Kono, who shrugged. Danny narrowed his eyes at the retreating backs of Steve and Jax. Somehow, he was out of the loop with the officer he had trained, and Steve was clearly privy to information that was being withheld from him. It didn't sit well with him one bit.

"What the . . . " Danny grumbled to Kono and Chin in frustration.

"I know, brah, something is odd here," sympathized Kono. "But didn't Steve say that Jax needed to talk to you tonight?"

"Yeah," sighed Danny. "You're right. I don't like this. She is as bad as Steve about minimizing injuries, and that is obviously not a good idea in this situation."

Steve pulled up the call that Chin had transferred to his laptop, glancing out to the common area to be sure it was disconnected. The screen was blank, and Chin confirmed with a nod.

"Commander McGarret, what is going on?" questioned the doctor.

"Doctor, I understand that in order to keep Officer Nolan safe, you have to have full and complete medical information. I just want to be sure that information is going to be treated with the utmost discretion. No one on this team needs to be privy to her medical files; and no non-essential personnel at your hospital do, either."

Jax sighed in relief, smiling up at Steve. _Absolutely captivating_ his brain once again supplied. _Damn Danny and that word-a-day calendar gag gift._

The doctor paused. "Understood, Commander," he said. Jax squirmed a bit at the sympathy in his voice. _See, this is why it's better to just pretend nothing happened and move on._

"I would suggest that we create a fictional medical history for Officer Nolan," continued the doctor. "I would imagine her true medical history has injuries consistent with someone in law enforcement?"

Jax snorted, and she and Steve shared an amused glance.

"You might say that," Jax drawled.

"Yes, and I see where you're going, doctor – that would be a sure tip-off to someone snooping through files that the 'patient' might be undercover law enforcement."

"Yes, we will need to create a false chart consistent with her current injuries; and having her admitted under the scenario of a Jane Doe would be the easiest and safest option, as there would be no need for a detailed history at all," the doctor nodded. "We have to assume that whoever is behind these murders has a medical background. Thank you again. I realize this is an unusual operation for your team. Please don't hesitate to call if I can be of assistance."

Steve ended the call and looked steadily into Jax's eyes for a long moment. "Why are you doing this?"

"Someone's doing bad things and they need to be stopped. Come on, Commander, you don't need me to explain this to you. This is what we do. This is what we signed up for." Jax stood and faced off across the desk from Steve.

"But you're not signed up at the moment. And you sure as hell didn't sign up for what went down in New York. So, why here, why now, why are you doing this?" Steve pressed.

Jax fiddled with a stapler on his desk, refusing to meet his eyes. When an accidental discharge of the stapler seemed imminent, Steve gently retrieved it from her hands. He glanced at Danny, who was looking into his office at Jax. "What's your reason for living, Jax?"

She looked up, genuinely confused. "Strange time for a philosophical conversation."

"I need to know that you're not doing this because you have some crazy death wish. What will be your reason for coming out of the sedation that they're going to put you under, when all this is done?"

Jax paused, then looked out at Danny. He caught her glance, and Steve watched as his face lit up with a mixture of pride and affection.

"Danny," Jax said simply.

 _Of course,_ Steve thought. _She came straight to him when she was in trouble. Of course it's Danny. She smells like honeysuckle and gun powder and she dislocated your thumb and let you change her bandage but it was always Danny, you idiot, and why are you having this conversation with yourself?_

"You okay, there, Commander?" Jax had her head cocked to the side, studying him curiously.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Let's get this together. And you're talking to Danny tonight, that was the condition. "

"Um, yeah, about that. Don't look at me that way, I'm not going to go back on my deal. But, I honestly don't remember a lot of detail. I was wondering . . . would you just let him read the file? I mean, I'll talk to him after. But, it's easier not to have to say it, you know, out loud. Please?"

Steve sighed. Danny always yelled at him for being so emotionally repressed and unwilling to talk about his feelings or his experiences. He had to admit, dealing with Jax was giving him some sympathy for Danny's frustrations.

"Okay, I get it. That's fine. Let's just focus on the case here, sort all that out tonight at my house, okay?"

Jax nodded. "Okay. I'll, um, call and make a reservation at a hotel or something for after."

"Don't be ridiculous – starting tomorrow you'll be in the hospital. Stay tonight – Danny might end up crashing on the couch anyway; it's not his night to go visit Grace."

"Wow, he wasn't kidding when he said you were invested in Grace," Jax commented. "That's . . . remarkably invested. And considerate. You know, you and this team mean the world to Danny."

"We're ohana – family," Steve said, "And look, that includes you. We've got your back, Jax. Whatever we work out for sending you in there, you're not going to be in harm's way, not if we can help it."

()()()()()()()()

The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of activity. Max, Kono, and Jax worked out the details of the fake medical history and created a cover story that explained the injuries and made Jax look like the perfect target.

Chin and Danny had been focusing on narrowing down a range of suspect ideas, and brought Steve up to speed when they exited the office.

"Obviously, the killer has to be some sort of medical personnel; either legitimately employed or knowledgeable enough to pass undetected among employees. And not tied to one specific facility," explained Chin. "So we're looking for someone who would work a rotation or look like they do – so possibly a technician of some sort, like radiology or phlebotomy."

"None of the victims had a single record of a visitor," continued Danny, "so whoever did this had to get into the hospital unnoticed, probably because they're wearing scrubs. We're going to have to be constantly surveilling Jax's room."

"Okay, right," Steve replied. He had plenty of experience in Naval intel, running ops that were more surveillance and strategy, despite Danny's assumption that he generally preferred the more explosive ops from his days as a SEAL. "We will set up several angles of camera both inside and outside the room. We'll wire for sound. I know none of us could go in as a potential victim, but we need at least one of us in the hospital."

"I think maybe we should put Kono in as a nurse," Danny suggested. "None of the victims were native, but plenty of hospital staff here are. We'll coordinate with hospital staff to see where we can safely set up a room for surveillance."

"Good idea," said Chin, "and we also need to decide how far back to create this cover. For all we know, the killer could be an EMT – he could be a first responder who actually brings the victims into the hospital to begin with."

Danny frowned. "This is getting way more complicated than I thought. What are we gonna do, drop her off a cliff for the sake of her cover story? I don't like this, Steven."

"Not a cliff, Detective Williams, although that is an interesting scenario that could be consistent with most of the injuries," Max said as he, Kono, and Jax re-entered the room.

Kono explained, "We've created a scenario that will put Jax in the hospital with the exact circumstances that should attract our killer. Everything is set. Duke has an officer ready to respond to a 911 call and bring our 'patient' in to the ER. Malia will make sure that she's the physician to handle the case, and then Dr. Bryson will take over and get Jax admitted. By having HPD bring Jax in, calling it in over the radio, we put it on the EMS radar without having to actually expose Jax to EMTs. Once she's in the hospital, only Malia and Dr. Bryson really need to be read in to the case. I'll be undercover as a nurse who just happens to have only one patient assigned to her."

Steve had confidence in his team. If they had set up the op, it would be ready. He only hoped that Jax would be ready for the op.

()()()()()()()()()()()()() day two ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Jax closed her eyes and rested her head back on the seat of Danny's car. She was still concussed, and it had been a long day.

"You okay, babe?" Danny asked. "You know, you can still pull the plug on this at any time. Just say the word, and we will call the op."

"No, Danno, I'm fine, really," Jax said. _I really am fine. Why won't anyone believe that?_

"So, what's with all the loaded glances and cryptic comments between you and Steve?" Danny asked, trying to keep his voice light. _And why do I get the feeling I'm about to have a conversation with you that is going to make me lose sleep tonight?_

"Steve thinks I need to give you more information on why I'm here, you know, before we do this undercover thing. He probably thinks I'm going to croak or something, doesn't want my secrets on his conscience."

"Jax, I knew you were stonewalling me. What is going on with you?" Danny was on the verge of rant territory.

"Oh, Danny, get a grip," Jax interrupted him. "Look, you and Steve are both blowing this whole protective male stuff out of proportion. I got hurt, on the job. Please, Danny, don't make a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be. I know you mean well but seriously, I've had worse injuries and I'm going to be totally fine. I just wish everyone would focus on this case and let me do my freakin' job."

"Babe, calm down. Okay, first, it will be much easier to believe that you're fine when I can't see some asshole's fingerprints on your neck. Second, this is NOT YOUR JOB. Yes, you are a cop, and a damn good one, but you are currently both injured and suspended. I don't even want to know how much trouble we could all be in for pulling this stunt. Especially since I don't know what the hell really happened in New York, and yes, I have seriously considered calling my guys there but then we got this case and I've been too busy."

Jax flinched. She knew Danny could call back to any number of contacts in New Jersey . . . hell, he probably could have pulled her file just as easily as Steve had. _Damn it, Steve is right._

"Babe, I'm really worried about you now because I could swear I just heard you say that Steve was right," Danny said.

"Yeah, whatever, just drive. You both seem to think it's important to examine in painstaking detail how I slipped up and got my ass handed to me in New York, so let's just go get this over with so we can get on with finding this psycho killer you have here, okay? Just . . . Danny, you have to promise you'll just focus on this case, and trust me, okay?"

Jax was out of the car and through Steve's front door before Danny could barely get the car in park. Steve heard the front door slam and the sound of Jax's boots coming through the kitchen. _Honey, I'm home,_ he thought to himself, then, _whoa she looks pissed_ as he caught her glare.

Wordlessly, she stalked over to the fridge, reached in, and grabbed a beer. She winced in pain as she tried to twist off the top. At her muttered curse, Steve handed her an open bottle in exchange.

"Don't." She held up a warning finger. "Just . . . don't. Show Danny the damn file and then let's get on with our lives."

Jax went into the guest room and slammed the door just as Danny came through the front door.

"I told you, she had the temper to go with the hair," Danny reminded Steve. "What did you do, you Neanderthal? She's furious with our gender apparently. Something about us being overprotective."

Jax emerged from the guest room wearing gym shorts and an oversized FDNY t-shirt, and headed out the back, toward the water. She didn't spare a glance toward Danny or Steve, but Danny didn't miss the cuts and bruises on her knees. He narrowed his eyes and added, "If some asshole of a boyfriend has laid a finger on her, there will be hell to pay."

"We might be overprotective, Danno, but the people who should have had her back in New York weren't," Steve sighed. "You were right, she definitely wasn't giving you the whole story. My condition for her doing this undercover op was that she had to tell you what really happened."

"Ah, so this is why she's furious. Am I supposed to go talk to her now?"

"Well, not just this minute. She asked me to let you read her file first. Said she would rather you just read the reports, rather than her have to explain it. Danno, listen, you have to promise me something: remember that she came here, to you. She didn't call you to come to New York. She wanted to be with you, but not there, okay? So you have to promise me that when you find out what happened, you're going to hold it together."

"Steven, you are scaring the shit out of me, and I am not even kidding. What the hell happened?"

"Danny, you have to promise me. Hold it together, okay, man?"

"Okay, Steve, I promise." Danny sighed. "Well, let me read it then. I already have a very bad feeling about this."

()()()()()()()()

Jax stood at the water . . . Steve wondered if she yet again had waded in without even realizing it. He took a seat on the lanai and watched her from a safe distance. He kept one ear tuned into the house behind him, hoping that his laptop would survive Danny's perusal of Jax's file.

He knew the exact moment that Danny put the pieces together. The string of curses was the most impressive in Danny's long and illustrious career of Jersey swearing. Steve was thankful to hear the violent opening of the refrigerator door – hopefully that meant his laptop had been spared.

Danny appeared next to him on the lanai with a Longboard in hand.

"I don't understand any of this. How could her own guys turn on her like this? I mean, I know they're bound to be sore because she beat them out of a spot on SWAT, but Steve, they've seen her in action. She deserved that spot. And why didn't she tell me? I understand that least of all."

"She was trying to protect you, Danny. She knew you'd want to go off to New York and start taking names and kicking asses. She knows you can't do that, not with Gracie."

"Protect me?" Danny protested, incredulously, "Hell, Steve, I'm the one that's supposed to be protecting her. And I failed her, just like I failed Grace."

"Okay, now see, that is exactly what she was trying to prevent, this sense of false guilt. Danny, this was not your fault, and neither was what happened to Grace. You can't carry that weight, Danny, it's not on you. None of it. You both have this incredibly overdeveloped sense of responsibility."

"And you don't? I can see it in your eyes, Steve, you've known her for one day and you're ready to go take these guys out, right along with me."

"Yeah, well, call me old fashioned but there you have it. I know Jax and Kono can take care of themselves and I'm sure Jax is just as determined as Kono to not be treated differently, but you and I both know, it is damn sure different. But she wants to put it behind her and help with this case, and I think we have to respect that, Danny."

Danny rubbed his eyes, wishing he could erase the mental images Jax's hospital report had provided. "Yeah, but we don't have to like it."

"True, partner. Now, go talk to her. This needs to be put to rest before we let her take on this undercover operation. For everyone's sake."

()()()()()()()()

Steve sat on the lanai and watched as Danny walked toward the beach, where Jax stood with her feet in the water. _As soon as she gets those stitches out, she's going to be swimming; I'll put money on it. I wonder if she packed a bikini. Stop. Stop it right now, this is a patently unprofessional line of thinking, Commander. What is wrong with you?_

Danny stood next to Jax, looking out over the water as the sun began to dip near the horizon. He had taken off his shoes and rolled up his pants, since she didn't seem inclined to move from where she stood, ankle deep in the water. The setting sun gave her hair a fiery glow as she stood, head down, kicking at pebbles under the surface.

"Jax," Danny sighed. "I don't know what to say."

"Wow, that's gotta be a new record, Jersey."

"This isn't a joke, Jax. I'm so sorry –"

"Look, Danny, let's not do this, okay? I'm fine. I can't believe that asshole actually filed a complaint against me but it will all get worked out. Let's just focus on catching this guy."

"Jax, having a complaint filed against you is not – this is not about your job. This is about you, Jax, and deflecting and pretending this didn't happen is not going to help you."

"It _is_ about my job, Danny – it's about constantly having to be better, faster, and stronger and getting the job I deserved and jerks like . . . like him not being able to deal with it. And the best thing for me right now is to be allowed to do my job, which I am damn good at, and you know it. Besides, all I have to do to pull off this undercover op is look completely vulnerable and helpless and . . ."

Jax stopped short, kicking at the pebbles with increased intensity.

"And . . ." Danny prompted.

"Well, apparently I can do that. Be helpless. I fought. So hard. But it wasn't – I couldn't – nothing I did was enough, it wasn't enough –"

A particularly sharp shell sliced into Jax's foot . "Shit," she swore quietly, "that hurt."

"Babe, I'm so sorry," Danny said, "I would give anything to fix it."

Jax looked up at him sharply. "It's just a cut on my foot, Danno."

"No. No, sweetheart, it's not."

Steve watched as Danny reached out and gently touched the bruising on Jax's throat, ran his hand carefully across the fractured collarbone and shoulder, and finally cupped her face and rubbed his thumb tenderly over the bruised cheekbone.

"I'm so sorry they hurt you, babe. I'm sorry you didn't have a partner watching your back."

Jax tried to pull away from Danny but she was unbalanced in the water and her foot stung. She let out a string of curses. Danny waited out the barrage of profanity, waited for the anger and tension to leave. She finally looked up at him, and whispered, "It hurt, Danno," and allowed him to pull her into his arms.

()()()()()()()()

Steve would have denied under torture that he had observed the entire exchange with anything other than professional concern. No jealousy, absolutely not. That would be not only unprofessional, but entirely and completely inappropriate under any circumstances. Under all circumstances.

As Danny and Jax made their way back toward the house, Steve noticed Jax limping slightly. When they reached the lanai, he could see blood still flowing freely from the side of her foot.

"Those shells will get you every time. Let me go get the kit."

Danny pulled out a chair for Jax. "Sit. Try not to do any more damage," he teased gently, winking at her. "You want something to drink? Maybe some more of that tea?"

"Um, sure," Jax smirked, "ask Steve to fix some just like last night's."

Danny headed toward the kitchen as Steve came down the stairs with the first aid kit.

"Jax said she'd like some more of the tea you made last night."

Steve scratched the back of his head and looked at Danny sheepishly. "Yeah, actually, I think by that she means coffee."

"Steven. Did I not ask you specifically to give her some sort of tea for her throat? And you gave her coffee?"

"Hey, she asked for coffee. She likes my coffee. I mean, Hawaii's coffee. She likes the coffee here." Steve shoved the kit into Danny's hands. "Fix her foot. I'll fix the coffee."

Danny squinted at Steve in confusion. "Okay, Steven, it's just coffee. Really."

By the time Steve rejoined them on the lanai, Danny had still not managed to stop the bleeding on Jax's foot.

"I hate to say this, but I'm thinking this may need a couple of stitches."

"Absolutely not," Jax protested. "For crying out loud, it's just a little cut. I'm not even going to be walking for the next couple of days, or ever how long it takes us to catch this guy. Come on, Danny, don't be ridiculous. Just keep pressure on it. I would but I can't reach; this stupid shoulder."

Steve handed Jax a cup of coffee, which she grabbed gratefully, inhaling the aroma and humming her appreciation. He bent down over Danny's shoulder to look at her foot.

"Danny, quit being such a mother hen," Steve said, "the biggest problem is probably going to be the sand in the cut. Why don't you go ahead and shower, get it cleaned out, then we'll take another look. Keep the gauze on it, don't bleed on the floor."

Jax smiled gratefully at Steve. She wasn't sure how much of her breakdown he had witnessed, and she appreciated not being coddled or patronized, or, God forbid, pitied.

"Fine, but the coffee is going with me." Jax clutched her steaming mug and limped into the bathroom.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Danny turned to Steve.

"You have the file?"

"On the case tomorrow?"

"No, Steven, not that file. I want the file on the son of a bitch that assaulted Jax and then had the uncommonly bad judgment to file a complaint against her. I want to know what the hell happened and why this moron is even being entertained and not thrown off the force and into jail."

Steve sighed, scrubbed his hand over his face. "You sure you want to get into this Danny? This is exactly what she didn't want, you going all protective and vigilante."

"I'm here, Steve, and I'm staying right here. I just want to see what kind of insane claim this jackass is making. Obviously she would prefer that I read the files, rather than try to get her to talk about it. She still hasn't told me anything herself."

"Nothing?"

Danny sighed. "She said 'it hurt'."

Danny knew that protectiveness was hardwired into Steve's DNA; still, he was somewhat surprised at the intensity with which Steve shoved his chair back and stalked into the office.

Steve dropped a printed file onto the table next to Danny's chair. "I printed the files early this morning."

He went in to the kitchen and returned with two more mugs of coffee as Danny began to read the file on the injuries suffered by Jax's attackers.

"It says here that when the arresting officer arrived on scene, Officer Jackson had suffered various cuts, bruises, and contusions, and Officer Martinez had a dislocated kneecap," Danny read.

"Do you know them?"

"Heard of Jackson – Jax mentioned they worked an SVU case together. He was O'Neil's partner. Never heard her mention Martinez."

"What about O'Neil? Is he the one Jax said you would have known from Jersey?"

"Yeah, I know O'Neil. One of the most arrogant and incompetent cops I ever had the misfortune of working with. He blew a case I worked on for months with Grace, when Jax was in training. Sloppy arrest, mishandled evidence – the perp walked on a technicality. He's a giant asshole; and I also mean that literally. The guy is huge; six foot four and easily two hundred fifty pounds."

Steve clenched his hand tightly around his mug. He remembered standing behind Jax to change the dressing on her cut; he towered over her without even attempting to intimidate her in any way. The idea of someone even larger deliberately using his size and strength to threaten and overpower her infuriated him.

"So what injuries did our five foot nothing Officer Jax Nolan supposedly inflict on this pathetic excuse of a man?" Danny was saying.

"Keep reading."

"Let's see, fractured rib, broken nose, dislocated thumb – hey she likes that trick, eh, Steve? – contusion to the face. Okay, that's upon the arresting officer's arrival."

"Keep reading." Steve watched Danny expectantly as he continued to read, and knew the minute his knees tightened and drew up that he'd gotten to the line that read _extreme bruising and damage to the soft tissue of the genitals._

"Oh shit." Danny cringed.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"This is why he filed a complaint. Apparently this, um, damage happened after he was in cuffs."

"Yeah, well, he totally had it coming."

"I would have castrated him but I couldn't get my hands on a knife." Both men jumped slightly as Jax appeared behind them. "I tried not to bleed on your floor, Mr. Clean," Jax said, sticking her paper-towel wrapped foot out slightly toward Steve.

Danny quickly closed the file. "It's getting a little dark out here, let's go in so Steve can take a look at that foot and agree with me that you need stitches."

Jax slid rather gingerly onto the kitchen stool. Today was better than yesterday but the fractured bones still ached, especially now that she was tired. Steve wordlessly pulled the Motrin out of the kitchen cabinet and shook the bottle at Jax. She held out her empty coffee cup to him.

"Fine," he said.

"Fine," she retorted.

Danny watched the exchange with some amusement. These two really were cut from the same cloth; he was not unaccustomed to resorting to bribery to get Steve to take any kind of medication. Now that he understood why he had been temporarily out of the loop, he was amused at the interaction between his two friends.

Having rather easily settled the need for pain relief, Steve gently grasped Jax's injured foot in his hand and pulled back the paper toweling. The cut looked much cleaner but it was surprisingly deep, and he could still see some sand and debris embedded in the cut.

"I hate to say it, but this is going to have to be irrigated," he said, apologetically.

Danny paled. "So we need to get her to the hospital?"

"Oh for crying out loud," Jax protested. "Saline and butterflies, I'll be good as new. Or hell, spray it out with the garden hose."

"You cannot possibly be serious," Steve said. "Do you know how unsanitary a garden hose would be? What kind of shit do they teach you in NYPD?"

"What kind of SEAL are you?" Jax threw out.

"The kind that doesn't let his people get blood poisoning from stupidly infected cuts," he retorted.

"I'm not sure which part to address first, Commander, the part where you assume I'm 'your people' or the part where you say I'm stupid." Jax was starting to wind up.

Danny chuckled in amusement as his current partner tried to hold his own against his former trainee. _Half your size but equal in stubbornness,_ Danny thought. _And this was kinda cute, how you referred to her as 'your people'. Little possessive, there, partner?_ "And this is where I am going to bid the two of you crazy ninja people good night. I'm sure whatever compromise you arrive at will prevent a future amputation of the limb so have at it, you nut cases."

Steve and Jax glanced at each other and then at Danny, stopped mid-rant by his amused instructions. Danny gave Jax a gentle hug and once again tousled her damp curls and kissed her on the forehead. "See you tomorrow, kid. You sure you're up for this?"

"Absolutely," Jax said, emphatically.

"Okay, well, get some rest, would you?"

"I'll be sure she's good to go in bed. I mean, settled in bed. Her bed. To sleep." Steve offered.

"You are uncharacteristically inarticulate, Steven," Danny shook his head, "But whatever."

"Um, did you want to, you know – she has that laceration, with stitches? The dressing will need to be changed, since she's showered."

"What? You're the Super SEAL field medic. Aside from Gracie's skinned knees, when have you ever known me to want to change dressings? What is wrong with you, and why are you suddenly in third grade? Good night, Steven." With that, Danny grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

As he drove off, Danny wondered why Steve suddenly was tongue-tied and uncomfortable with the idea of dealing with Jax's injuries. _What on earth? OH. Well. And all the bantering and bickering between the two of them . . . Oh, this is good._ Danny grinned to himself as he thought of his tougher than nails partner reduced to confusion and flustered by his former rookie. _Well, I did tell him he had met his match._

()()()()()()()()

Steve rested his head against the door for a moment after closing it behind Danny.

"What, you feel abandoned without backup?" Jax asked dryly from her perch on the kitchen stool. "I'm half your size and pretty beat up, what exactly do you think you're dealing with here?"

 _Potential devastation._ Steve's brain was still helpfully supplying descriptive phrases for him. He inwardly cursed both Danny's word-a-day calendar and his elementary school mother's vocabulary enhancing upbringing.

"Apparently I'm dealing with someone more accident prone than even myself," Steve retorted. "Okay, let's get this new cut irrigated and bandaged – since you won't be walking, I think you will be fine with butterflies."

"Finally, someone who listens to reason."

"You're not going to like the irrigation part. I'm sorry, but it's going to hurt. No way around it."

Jax looked up at Steve through the riot of haphazardly drying red curls. "Yeah, well. I'll survive," she said quietly. Steve clenched his fist to resist brushing his thumb over her bruised cheekbone. _Total cliché, Steve, besides, Danny's already got the corner on that particular gesture._

He pulled a basin, large syringe, and bottle of saline over to the counter. "Okay, just sit where you are, foot over the basin. I'll irrigate with saline, let gravity flush it out."

Jax nodded and gripped the edge of the stool. "Yeah, I know the drill. Go for it, sailor."

Aside from a sharp intake of breath, Jax remained silent during the entire process. When Steve was satisfied that the wound was clean, he gently dried off her foot and pulled the edges of the cut together with three butterfly bandages. "Not bad," Jax admired his handiwork.

"Yeah, well, not bad yourself," Steve smiled at Jax as he patted the last bandage into place. "We may as well change the dressing on that knife lac, while we have the kit out."

Jax slid off the stool and held out her empty coffee mug to Steve. "Do I deserve another shot?" she grinned.

Steve rolled his eyes but refilled her cup. Holding her hands around the comforting warmth, Jax faced the counter. She consciously willed herself not to flinch when he gently pulled the waistband of her shorts away and gingerly removed the damp dressing. One of the stiches was stuck to the gauze, and she gave a slight yelp as it tugged sharply on the tender skin.

"Sorry, sorry, "Steve murmured. He carefully teased the gauze away from the troublesome stitch. "This was in your hospital file but not the case file. Was this, you know, during . . . ? " he asked, not sure how to approach the question.

"Yeah. I think, maybe, the original idea was to make it look random, you know? They, um, followed me out of a yoga class, of all things. Alley, dark, got the drop on me. First few hits, I had no idea who I was dealing with." Jax indicated the back of her head, the knife wound, the bruised cheekbone. Then her hand drifted down to her neck, where the finger marks were starting to merge into a solid bruise. "Then I think ego and adrenaline kicked in. O'Neil just had to make sure I knew exactly where I had overstepped my bounds."

"And the other two?" Steve asked quietly. "They help or just observe?" His fingers gently traced behind hers. Cliché or no, his hands seemed to take on a mind of their own.

Jax jerked her head up toward Steve. "This some conspiracy with Danny? Good cop bad cop, get Jax to spill her guts?"

"Just trying to wrap my brain around it, Jax. I can't imagine standing by . . . a fellow officer, for God's sake."

"Well, Martinez wasn't standing and Jackson was unconscious," Jax smirked.

"Oh, right, dislocated kneecap and 'contusions'."

Ripping open an antiseptic wipe, he gently cleaned the wound and reapplied antibiotic cream, thankful that he had stocked the kit with pain relieving cream. "This should help," he said, as he recovered the stitches with a clean bandage.

"Yeah, that's better. Thanks." Jax turned around, still sipping her coffee. "Wow, that's actually a _lot_ better. Is that a topical?"

"Yeah. Here." Steve gestured for her to sit back on her perch, and gently applied some of the cream to the unbandaged surface cuts and scrapes on her knees. He squeezed some more cream out onto her knuckles, which were scraped and raw over the bruising. Her head was bent over her hand, and Steve inhaled the honeysuckle and gunpowder scent from her hair.

"I'm not this person," Jax said quietly. "This is not who I am."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, as he gently rubbed the cream into her hand.

"Weak. Helpless. Bleeding and limping around some guy's kitchen."

Steve tucked a finger under Jax's chin and raised her eyes to meet his. He held her hand up to her in evidence, and then grinned and waved his bruised thumb at her to emphasize his point.

"You are anything but weak and helpless. The odds were three to one and you sent all three to the hospital. And you're still injured and offering to help us take down a suspect – I'd say that's about as far from weak and helpless as you can get."

"Better than sitting around feeling useless", Jax shrugged, then winced.

"And you wouldn't admit it, but a couple days of rest won't hurt, right?" Steve smiled at Jax.

"You're right, I'm not admitting it."


	3. Chapter 3

()()()()()()()()

This time it was around 2 am when Steve heard the retching. He listened for the sound of Jax padding down the hall and out the back door again. Sighing, he went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee, then stood on the lanai and watched Jax make her way toward the water. The moon was almost full, and her hair glowed red.

 _Completely entrancing._ Steve's brain offered another set of descriptors. He realized she was heading to the water; she must find it as soothing and grounding as . . . _shit – the cut on her foot . . ._

"Jax, stop", Steve called out softly and jogged a few paces toward her. She stopped, confused, and looked back at him.

"Your foot . . . I'm sorry," and he genuinely was, "You really can't go in the water with that cut."

Even in the moonlight, Steve instantly read the haze of confusion and complete disorientation. He'd seen it too many times among his fellow SEALs to have any question. _Shit. That is straight up PTSD._

Jax held a hand up, as if in warning. "You need to evacuate; follow that group of people headed away from the scene. We've got debris falling everywhere."

Steve decided to go along for a moment and try to gently bring Jax back to reality. "I'm not evacuating; I'm not a civilian."

She sighed in relief. "Oh thank God . . . I've got an firefighter down over here, please come help me . . . I can't lift –" Jax broke off and looked down at the sand beneath her feet, then back up at Steve, her eyes full of confusion.

Steve stood very still, patiently waiting for Jax to orient herself to time and place. He could see the instant her brain calculated her reality and he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't hurt herself or him in her confusion.

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. The close cropped side of her hair didn't suffer, but the longer curls that hung over her face were almost comical in disarray. Steve couldn't resist reaching out a gentle hand and smoothing the unruly curls behind her ear.

"Come on, I've got coffee brewing. It's a small consolation to not being able to go in the water, but it's the best I can offer." Steve indicated a chair for Jax on the lanai.

He returned from the kitchen with two steaming mugs. Jax accepted hers with her usual hum of appreciation, and Steve realized that he would miss that sound if she were gone, and wondered if she made that sound when . . . _COMMANDER. Cease and desist._

He stared wordlessly at Jax until she squinted at him in confusion. "Commander?"

"Jax, I know what I'm seeing. I've been in enough tours of combat. And somehow I'm thinking you are well aware that you have PTSD, and it's not just from this most recent assault. You recover too quickly for it to be new. I have to know: are you good for this op? Believe me, I know firsthand what sedation and narcotics and strange environments can do. "

Jax thought back to that first encounter in Steve's office, when she suspected that he saw straight through what she managed to use to deflect and distract Danny. _Well, damn it, there's no fooling this one._

She turned in her chair so that she could face Steve and look him square in the eye. "Commander, I assure you, I am good for this op. As long as there won't be explosions or falling bodies, I should be operating at one hundred percent . . . or at least at one hundred percent of what is required for this particular assignment, in which being bruised and concussed is part of my cover."

Steve studied her for a long moment, his stormy blue eyes holding her vibrant green ones. Neither of them wavered. Satisfied that she was at least no more damaged than himself, he sat back and started sipping his coffee. Jax gave a brief nod and did the same.

()()()()()()()()

At some point, the moonlight had given way to the weak rays of sunrise, and Steve glanced over to see that Jax had drifted back to sleep, her coffee mug still clutched tightly in her hand. He stood, muscles sore and bones popping after several hours in the chaise lounge.

He reached down to relieve Jax of her mug, and found himself winded and flat on his back, looking up at a pair of curious green eyes.

"Shit. Sorry." Jax rubbed her hand over her eyes and looked down at Steve. She had taken him out efficiently with a sweep behind the knees. She studied him with mixed emotions evident on her face; there was a spark of amusement in her eyes, but she bit her lower lip in concern – he had hit the ground hard.

 _Totally kissable_. Steve's brain chimed in.

Steve covered his eyes and groaned. This was so inappropriate . . . _Danny. She's already said that Danny is her reason to get through this op. Focus._

Jax watched as Steve pushed his hands behind his shoulders, flexed, tensed, and somehow popped up on his feet.

Jax found herself looking up instead of down. _Oh. Well then. I would very much like to see that again._

Steve attempted a stern look and crossed his arms. "We do not speak of this."

Jax squinted up at him and favored him with one of her rare full-blown smiles. Assured that he wasn't injured, she decided to take advantage of the situation. "One condition."

Steve hesitated, then asked, "What do you have in mind?"

"Teach me to do that."

Steve grinned. Some old saying of Danny's flitted through his mind, something about "like recognizing like". He reached out toward Jax's good hand. "Deal."

Jax gripped Steve's hand in agreement and held on to pull herself up out of the chair as he easily rebalanced his weight and pulled her toward him. Jax paled and swayed as she moved too quickly, sparking a wave of nausea and pain from her concussion and fractures. She didn't resist as Steve, familiar with the sensation from his own experience, steadied her for a moment against his chest. She relaxed against the solid wall of muscle, realizing with some surprise that she found his considerable physical presence comforting, not intimidating.

 _Just helping an injured officer stay on her feet_ he told himself. _Not smelling her hair. Not._

"When you're all healed up," he said, brushing his hand gently across her collarbone and then cupping it warmly over her injured shoulder.

Jax uncharacteristically didn't resist the gesture of comfort. _Whoa there Jax, don't literally go weak in the knees. When did you become such a girl?_ _It's the damn concussion. Has to be._

"Ahem."

They both started at the sound of Chin clearing his throat.

"Interrupting something?" Chin raised his eyebrow pointedly at Steve, who backed away from Jax as if he'd been tasered. "Malia was terribly concerned that no one had told Jax not to eat this morning, so she sent me over . . . when Steve didn't answer his phone or respond to texts." Chin was smirking now.

"Oh, that's right," Jax said. "No food, because of sedation, right? I think I would have remembered, but thank you, so much. If I had forgotten that could have delayed the whole op."

Chin smiled. "Or made you really sick, which is the larger concern. And it's no problem. Malia is looking forward to meeting you – though she is really hoping to be able to spend time with you when this is all over and you're not undercover as an unconscious patient."

"Thanks, really. I'll go get sorted." Jax winced as she bent to retrieve her mug, which had hit the deck along with Steve, and then disappeared back into the house. "Can I have coffee, though?" she called back over her shoulder as she headed toward the guest room.

"No cream, but yes. Until 10 am." Chin replied. "Malia suspected you would ask that."

Steve grabbed his mug. "Guess I better go start another pot." He avoided Chin's eyes and made his way into the kitchen.

Not to be so easily dissuaded, Chin followed him. "So?"

"So, what?"

"So, Steve, I've known you since you were in high school. And the last time I've seen you this flustered was when your dad and I caught you and Stacey Bentridge under the bleachers."

Steve groaned. "You will never let me live that down, will you? And this is nothing, nothing like that. Nothing is going on."

"Looked like a little something there, Steve. I might owe Kono some money."

"What?!"

"Yep, she bet $20 that there was . . . what was her word – chemistry – between you and Jax."

Steve looked stricken. "There can't be."

"Why not? I mean, yeah, you've only known her a couple days, but -"

"Danny."

"What about Danny?"

"Yeah, what about me?" Danny walked into the kitchen.

"What, is there a team meeting at my house this morning, and I didn't get the memo?" Steve grumbled. "Are you here to remind us of any dietary restrictions or what?"

Danny looked confused. "Nooooo, I thought I would stop by and offer Jax a ride this morning. Who has dietary restrictions?"

"Jax. No food. Sedation." Chin replied. "Malia was worried, sent me to check, when we couldn't –"

"Hey, Danny," Steve interrupted, shooting a _please-be-quiet_ look to Chin, "Coffee?"

Danny once again had the sensation that he was missing something, but shrugged and accepted the offered coffee.

Jax entered the kitchen, hair still damp from a shower, sniffing for coffee and smiling at the now familiar aroma. "Hey, the gang's all here," she said, as she accepted a gentle hug from Danny.

Steve poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her . . . _totally not listening for . . . yep, there it is._

Chin was still looking at Steve in amusement, Danny was looking at Chin with suspicion, and Steve was looking distinctively uncomfortable. _Weird,_ Jax thought.

The moment of slight tension was broken when Chin's cell phone rang. "Kono," he answered. "Well, we've all ended up at Steve's . . . yes, Malia sent me to remind Jax not to eat. Sure, that would be fine, just meet up with us here."

Chin addressed Jax, "Kono is on her way here. She has the clothes you need for the op and she will get you to the location where HPD will pick you up. I'm going to grab my laptop out of the car, send some files to Malia."

Steve headed up the stairs as Chin headed out toward the driveway, leaving Danny and Jax in the kitchen. Danny slid onto a stool next to Jax, and once again traced his thumb gently over her bruised cheekbone.

"Hey, are you absolutely one hundred percent positive you're up for this?" he asked.

"One hundred percent, Danny," she replied emphatically.

Danny studied the bruising around her neck, and on her collarbone, visible above the neckline of the simple tank she was wearing. "I just feel like we are capitalizing on an already horrific situation. It doesn't feel right."

"Danny, it's making something good come out of a bad situation. It's the only thing that _does_ feel right to me. Trust me. I have the easy part, after all. You and the rest of the team are the ones that have to snag the killer."

"Yeah, by using you as bait. I don't understand all the medical and technical stuff, but it seems like there's a lot that could go wrong."

"Danny, I may be tired and concussed, but I've spent enough time with your team already to know you guys are amazing. I trust you to have my back."

Danny smiled. "It is a special team, I have to admit it. Even if we are on this pineapple infested island. Amazing, hunh? You think so?"

Jax nodded emphatically as Chin, Kono, and Steve all reentered the kitchen.

Kono sent Jax back into her room with a small gym bag.

"Okay, once Jax is ready, I will get her to the drop-off point, then meet up with you all at the hospital," Kono said, as she handed off a black tech gear bag to Steve. "You and Danny are going in as electrical contractors – that will get you in to the ER as back-up and into Jax's room to slip the surveillance cameras into the electrical outlets. The nurse's call button has already been wired to transmit sound."

Chin continued, "Malia and Dr. Bryson have secured the room directly above Jax's room. It's on an orthopedic ward. The room will be marked as closed for repairs so it shouldn't attract suspicion. Just make sure you're not being watched when you go in, and you should be fine. We've got the closed circuit surveillance already set up; once you have the cameras set, we have visual and sound on her room. We can respond to anything suspicious within moments."

Jax emerged from her room in running shorts and a close fitting cropped tank.

Steve's brain shuffled quickly through an alarming number of descriptives, and settled unhelpfully on _wow_ and _damn_.

"I feel awfully conspicuous, Kono," she complained. "This is a far cry from cargos and boots."

"Aside from those impressive bruises, you look very typical for the island, I promise," Kono said warmly. "It's the perfect cover reason for you to have no phone, no ID on you."

The outfit was far skimpier than her usual baggy gym shorts and oversized t-shirt, and revealed spectacular bruising on her ribs, lower back, and across her collarbone. Beneath the bruising, Steve could make out the outline of two older, jagged scars on her left side, just above her waist, front and back. _Entrance and exit?_ he thought to himself, before his eyes were drawn back to the disturbing bruises . . . one of which looked suspiciously like a boot imprint on her lower back.

Steve's jaw clenched in anger, and he glanced over to see a similar expression on Danny's face.

Chin caught the exchanged glance. _Someone, somewhere, is going to pay dearly for those bruises_ , he thought.

"Okay, well, let's get going," Jax said. She would never admit it but she was starting to get a little nervous. She felt incredibly vulnerable in the running gear, unarmed, no badge. She turned to Danny. "Next time I see you I'll be semi-conscious, I guess."

"You've got this, kid," Danny gently brushed the hair out of her eyes and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"We've got your back," Steve added quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to touch her one more time; to pull her against him for safekeeping. Kono, ever observant, noted the gesture and smiled at Chin. _Pay up, Cousin._

Jax met Steve's eyes for a moment. "Don't forget, as soon as I'm healed up."

"It's a deal. So rest up while we catch this guy." Steve held Jax's gaze for longer than was strictly necessary, prompting Kono and Chin to exchange a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Danny observed their exchange with amusement. _Okay, definitely not my imagination, then, if the cousins are reading what I'm reading._

Jax grinned, squared her shoulders, and walked out the door with Kono.

"Sistah, what was *that*? Kono asked, with a grin, as she and Jax slid into the car. "What happens as soon as you're healed up?"

"Oh, Steve is going to teach me this thing – flat on your back, some sort of amazing move, pops you right up onto your feet."

Kono broke into a wide smile. Steve was getting a hint but Jax was either clueless or firmly in denial. _This is going to be fun to watch,_ she thought.

()()()()()()()()

To be honest, Danny was quite enjoying watching the normally nonplussed Steve squirm a bit in the driver's seat. For once, it was nice to have a sense of having the upper hand. However, the drive to the hospital wouldn't take but so long, and then there was work to be done and a case to solve, so he somewhat reluctantly decided to put Steve out of his misery.

"Something on your mind, Steven?"

Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times. _How do I tell my best friend that I think I'm falling for the girl that he obviously has feelings for, and who obviously has feelings for him? How did this even happen?_

"Because, you know, Steve, I'm here for you, man. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"Danny . . . " Steve began, looking over. Danny was shocked to see raw anguish in his friend's eyes.

"Steve, babe, what is it?" Danny was alarmed. This was supposed to go down with gentle teasing and backslapping all around, and plans for drinks and maybe a double date after the case was closed. "Is there something wrong with Jax?"

Steve took a deep breath and decided to start there. "Danno, there's a couple things I need to tell you. First, how much did Jax talk to you about her experience on 9/11?"

"Well, I know she got sent to Ground Zero; a lot of Jersey units poured across the river to help. I heard that she helped get quite a few civilians to safety before the towers started to fall, and she helped triage a couple of other officers who were wounded. She got injured and pulled off the scene. We were both in the hospital at the same time, actually. The next time I saw her was at Grace's funeral. And at her brother's funeral – he was FDNY, and she lost him when the second tower went down." Danny had to stop and clear his throat a bit.

"Did she get, you know, professional help and stuff, after?" Steve questioned.

"I guess the mandatory department stuff," Danny shrugged. "But as you can tell, she's not one to wallow; hell, just getting her to admit that bullet wounds hurt is a challenge. I drove her to one of her appointments, though, before she was cleared to drive or go back to active duty."

"What do you remember?"

"About the appointment? Well, I remember she was angry and resentful that she had to go," Danny grinned, "which comes as no surprise, right? And afterward, when I drove her home, she went straight in to her apartment, threw up, and then grabbed a beer. Wouldn't talk to me – blamed bad Chinese food the night before." Danny sighed. "It wasn't bad Chinese, was it? Hell, Steve, I didn't push. I was still healing and in a fog after Grace's death. What did I miss?"

"Danny, don't beat yourself up over this, man. But last night, Jax exhibited some pretty typical PTSD behavior. Not the kind we see with victims of assault – the kind I see in the military. The kind that comes after combat; specifically, after losing people in combat. You rarely see it in civilians, or even in law enforcement, but 9/11 . . . that was different. She pulled it together so quickly, and was so unsurprised . . . made me think she's been dealing with this – and actually dealing with it pretty well, from what I can tell – for a long time. It's not new."

Danny sighed. "So, you think this recent assault . . .?"

"No doubt it's triggered a recurrence of some pretty hard core stuff, Danny. I'm sorry. I'm just worried . . . I don't know if Malia and Dr. Bryson have any idea this could be a factor. You know how I hate taking narcotics, how I hate waking up in the hospital? That's a big part of it. Anything that makes you feel out of control, that interferes with whatever coping mechanisms you keep in place . . . it's rough. Probably why Jax wouldn't take anything stronger than the Motrin."

"And yet she's volunteered to be sedated . . . okay, what should we do? Think we should tell Malia and Dr. Bryson? By the time we get to the hospital . . . "

"Yeah, the op will already be in play. The next time we see Jax she's undercover. She assured me that she was prepared, that she knew she could handle this. You know her best, Danny, what does your gut tell you?"

"I think we let Malia know, right? 'Cause, she's family. We can trust her judgment. But I'm worried enough about all the things that could go wrong with this, not to have someone with the medical knowledge informed. I'll talk to her when it's safe."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's what we should do. If Jax wants to rip us a new one for invading her privacy . . . well, I'll risk that. It's better than the alternative of something really going sideways."

"Okay, so we'll talk to Malia. Jax would, I think, literally kill us if we pulled the op, but at least Malia will know to watch for . . . what are we watching for, exactly?"

"Just any sign that she is having a flashback, or that's she's lost touch with where she is. She could get violent; hurt herself or someone else. I mean, you've seen it, when you've been with me after I've taken a few too many hits."

Danny thought of all the times he had been on concussion watch with Steve; how the SEAL would sometimes wake up disoriented, mumbling incoherently or calling out for his men who had been wounded or killed. It was unsettling, to say the least . . . and unnerving to try to avoid injury when Steve was so disoriented that he would strike out at Danny, having no idea who he was.

"At least I don't have to worry about Jax rendering me unconscious in her confusion," Danny joked.

Steve rubbed the back of his head, still a little tender from his hard landing on the lanai just a few hours before. "Well, don't underestimate her."

Danny narrowed his eyes at Steve, then laughed. "You're kidding me. Tell me the big bad Super SEAL didn't get taken out by my diminutive former rookie? She did, didn't she? Dislocated your thumb and then what, what did she do this morning?"

Steve glared at Danny and mumbled, "Put me flat on my back. I startled her, I wasn't thinking, she took me flat out. Stop laughing, Danny, this could be a problem on this op! What if she takes out some unsuspecting doctor?"

"Oh, Steven, that's why we will warn Malia," Danny was laughing so hard, tears were forming in his eyes. Despite having discovered yet another reason to fret over the safety and well-being of his friend, he couldn't help but appreciate the humor in her having twice bested his bad-ass partner in as many days. "Is that the other thing you wanted to tell me? That Jax swept you off your feet? Literally, and I suspect, figuratively as well? Don't think we didn't all notice the way you were looking at her this morning."

Once again, Danny was caught off guard by the stricken look in Steve's eyes.

"Whoa, babe, what's wrong? What's going on with you?"

"Danny, I swear, I did not mean for this to happen," Steve began earnestly, "You have to believe that. I know that you and Jax have really strong feelings for each other, and I'm not that guy, man; I'm not that guy that steps in and interferes. I swear I haven't initiated anything, and with any luck Jax has no idea."

"Whoa, whoa, back up the truck, babe," Danny interjected. "Okay, first of all, calm down. You are my best friend, Steve, and this is not something you need to explain to me. I might give you a hard time but I have never known anyone with more integrity. Now, what kind of feelings are you saying that Jax and I have for each other, because I don't know that we're on the same page here at all."

"Well, Danny, I mean, it's really obvious how much you care about her. You just light up when you look at her, and there's all the hugging and kissing and touching her hair," Steve replied. _Her amazing, sexy-as-hell, honeysuckle smelling hair . . . STOP._

"Okay, yes, I admit to having very strong feelings for Jax," Danny stated.

"See?"

"Let me finish, Neanderthal. Very strong, very protective, very affectionate, very _brotherly_ feelings."

"Oh. Brotherly?"

"Yes, Steve, you have a sister, so you should be familiar with the concept. I mean, look at it this way. How would you have reacted if Mary had shown up, with Jax's injuries?"

Steve stared at Danny for a moment. "Someone would have died. Plain and simple. Damn it, no wonder she didn't want to tell you. I mean, _I_ wanted to hurt someone and I had never met her in person."

"Right. So, yes, those feelings are very strong, right? And that's the only feelings that have _ever_ been between me and Jax, Steve, I swear to you. I'm her big brother; I helped train her, get her career started. There has never _ever_ been anything between us. Hell, things were still good between me and Rachel when Jax was in my life. Think about it, Steve, you know I may be a jackass but I am a faithful jackass. And by the time I was done training Jax, she had lost her brother, so I guess I just sort of assumed that role. So, yeah, man, we are _tight_ but that is the nature of our relationship. Always has been, always will be, I swear to you."

Steve exhaled in relief, some of the tension going out of his shoulders.

Danny studied him for a moment. "What I would really like to know, now, is what's going on with you? You said, 'with any luck Jax has no idea' . . . no idea of what, exactly?"

Steve squirmed uncomfortably under Danny's gaze. "Well, Danny, it's possible that I might have some . . . feelings for Jax. Maybe. Aw hell, I don't know."

Danny grinned, "Oh, there's definitely something going on. Even Chin and Kono have picked up on it, if the zen-master's raised eyebrows and Kono's smirks in your kitchen this morning were any indication. Spill. Tell me."

"Well, I just . . . I really, really do want to kill this Officer O'Neil. Slowly, painfully, and with my bare hands. That could be brotherly, though, right?"

"Well, yes, because I feel the same way. What else?"

"Um, I really like the way her hair smells," Steve said hesitantly, looking at Danny to gauge his response.

"Yeah, that's not exactly brotherly. Can't say that I've noticed how her hair smells . . . that would be weird."

"The way she carries herself . . . you know, she's really tiny, but I admire how even injured, she gears up and projects a certain confidence. I mean, she's dislocated my thumb and took me out flat, even though she's concussed and fractured."

"You find that appealing?"

"Apparently it's a turn-on, Danny."

"Stop right there. I don't need to know what turns you on. What else?"

"Well," Steve hesitated, then plunged ahead, "Okay, you know that little noise she makes when you hand her coffee?"

"I guess," Danny replied, "hadn't really thought about it – but yeah, I know what you mean."

"Well, I found myself wondering if she made that sound, you know . . . when . . ." he looked at Danny expectantly.

"What? When . . . oh my dear Lord in heaven."

"Not brotherly?"

"No. Most emphatically not brotherly, Steven. And you keep giving her . . . no wonder you have been so quick to offer . . . thank you. Thank you VERY much, I am not sure I will ever be able to drink coffee again, at least not when Jax is around. Really? I can't believe you."

"What?!" Steve exclaimed defensively. "You started this. Don't get mad at me, you were the one who wanted to 'examine my feelings'. What's your problem?"

"Okay, let's try this exercise again. Imagine I'm sitting here telling you that I like the way Mary smells, and that her ditzy act is a bit of a turn-on to me, and I'm imagining Mary, you know. Wondering. That sort of thing. How would that make you feel?"

Steve stared at Danny. "Well, I think actually my first response might be to rip your arm off and beat you over the head with it. That's my sister."

"Right," Danny said tersely.

Steve continued, "And then, I think maybe, once I thought about it . . . you're one of the best, most trustworthy, honorable people I know. So I think, maybe, I could be okay with it. It's weird, but at the end of the day, I would know that you would give your life to protect her, and that would be good enough for me."

Danny sighed. "Okay, yeah, you're right. There's no one I trust more to have my back than you, Steven, so yeah, I trust you to do right by Jax. It's just . . . I knew she'd been through a lot, now I know that she's probably been hurting more than I ever realized, and now with this most recent round - I don't want her to get hurt."

"I know, Danny, believe me. I didn't see this coming and I'll be honest, I'm way outta my element here. What she's been through . . . Danny, I'm not stupid. The timing is lousy and you tell me to walk away, I'll honor that. I swear I will." _I don't know how . . . maybe I'll go back into active duty . . ._

"If I didn't think there was a really good chance it was mutual, I would, babe. But the way she bickers with you, and the fact that she obviously trusts you . . . I'm not gonna tell you to walk away. But we gotta get her safely through this undercover op, first," Danny nodded at the hospital just ahead of them.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "There's just one thing I don't get, though: I asked Jax what her reason for living was . . . you know, when she volunteered for this undercover op. I wanted to be sure she had a reason to fight through if something went wrong. And she said it was _you_ , Danny. So if there's nothing between you . . . "

"My guess? She's still trying to protect me. Steve, she knew I almost lost it when Grace was killed. She tried to keep me from finding out about what really happened to her in New York so that _I_ wouldn't be upset. She has to know what it would do to me if I lost her, especially on my watch. So, she's going to fight – not for herself, but for me. And that's all kinds of wrong, but I guarantee you that's what she meant."

Steve shook his head. "I don't like where her head is right now, but, we'll cross that bridge later. And, Danny? Thanks, man."

"Yeah, yeah, you big goof. Goes without saying, you break her heart, I break your neck right?"

"Understood."

()()()()()()()()

Steve and Danny had just finished discretely filling Malia in on their concerns regarding Jax's PTSD, when there was a commotion at the entrance of the waiting room.

"Please, someone get me a doctor, quick!" a uniformed officer called out, as he rushed in, carrying a seemingly unconscious Jax.

"There's my cue", Malia murmured to Steve and Danny, and left them fiddling with a couple of outlets in one of the triage rooms which housed three gurneys, separated by curtains. A casual observer would have no reason to think they had anything to do with the young woman being carried into the far end of the room.

"Shit," Danny swore quietly.

Kono's wardrobe and makeup job was good – frighteningly so. In addition to the very authentic bruises, Jax's knuckles appeared to be smeared with fresh blood and her lip looked as though it had been split open and bleeding. Completely unmoving and even pale, Jax hung limply in the officers arms and did not flinch when he accidentally struck her hand hard against the bed frame.

 _Impressive_ , Steve's brain suggested.

"Got a call from someone taking the trash out behind Kahemana's Coffee shop – victim was found unconscious in the alley. I called it in to rescue but didn't wait for a bus, just brought her straight in," the officer said to Malia. "There's no ID, no phone – nothing."

 _Good, it's been on EMS radio chatter then,_ Steve thought.

"Okay, thanks, officer," Malia said, "We'll take it from here. Let us know if you find any ID later, okay?" She turned to address the nurse who was taking down the vital signs. "Looks like LOC, shock, obviously some abrasions. Let's get an IV started for fluids, and call Dr. Bryson from neuro for a consult on a head CT, please?"

The nurse quickly picked up an IV kit and expertly ran a line. Malia risked a glance at Steve, knowing that they had hoped to avoid actual IVs, but Steve imperceptibly shook his head. He knew that Jax wouldn't object, and trusted that Malia could control what actually went in to the IV. A little extra Ringer's lactate never hurt anyone.

"Thank you, Julia," Malia said to the nurse. "I'm going to stay with the patient; I don't like her color, even though vitals are stable. Would you let me know when Dr. Bryson gets here? I'm going to go ahead and clean these lacerations, see if any stitches are required."

Malia busied herself cleaning the fake blood from Jax's mouth, and frowned when she got to her knuckles. With her head turned away from the rest of the ER, she spoke quietly so that only the guys could hear her.

"Whose idea was it to _actually_ split your knuckles open? That's a little extreme for cover, isn't it?"

Steve could have sworn he saw a smirk cross Jax's face.

()()()()()()()()

Not wanting to look suspicious, Danny and Steve reluctantly left the ER, trusting that Malia had the situation under control. They stopped on the neuro floor and went into the designated room to place the cameras.

Steve could feel the anger rolling off of Danny in waves.

"Hey, partner, most of that was fake, okay? I know, it was hard to see her looking unconscious, but she's okay. She and Kono did a great job of getting that set up."

Danny sighed. "I know . . . it just makes me want to go kill O'Neil – like you said: with my bare hands, and slowly. I can't just let this go, Steve. If he's not held accountable by the force . . . "

"I hear you," Steve agreed. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? You read the file; her supervising officer sounds like a stand-up guy. I think he's going to do everything he can to see justice served. If not . . . " Steve shrugged. People got injured; it happened all the time. O'Neil sounded like the kind of guy who would get injured in a . . . bar fight. Yeah, that could happen.

After placing the cameras, Steve and Danny made their way to the out of order orthopedic room a floor above. Chin and Kono were already testing the audio and visual feed and Malia was there as well, reviewing a file.

"We could hear you just fine, boss," Kono said, "And camera placement looks good."

"Our patient is doing a fantastic job undercover," Malia frowned, "although I think splitting open her knuckles was a bit excessive."

"Hey, that was all Jax," Kono protested, "as I was pulling away from the alley, I saw her take a vicious swing at the brick wall."

"Well, it worked," Malia explained. "I'm surprised her hand isn't broken; thankfully, it doesn't seem to be. I'm hoping that it was hurting enough to explain the fact that she was indeed mildly shocky when she came in."

Steve frowned.

"Yes," Malia nodded at him, "you can't fake pallor, elevated heart rate, and low blood pressure. And yes, Steve, this is why you made the right call in bringing me your concerns about the PTSD. She used our agreed upon signal to affirm that she was okay, though."

"And what is that signal?" Danny asked.

"Thumbs up for yes, one finger extended for no. She will be sedated but responsive after Dr. Bryson brings her back from her head CT . . . which, by the way, after I felt that lump on the back of her head, is NOT going to be a fake procedure. Her pupils are still unequal and I'm not taking any chances that we're overlooking an actual bleed."

"I'll have to remember an undercover op as a method of getting Jax to take her injuries seriously," Danny said, "come to think of it, we might have to try that trick on Steve sometime."

"Looks like our patient is being settled in her room," Chin noted, drawing their attention to the surveillance feed.

Steve drew in a shaky breath as he watched Dr. Bryson and Kono wheel Jax into the room. Chin put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"It's okay, Boss, it looks worse than it is," he said.

After Dr. Bryson left the room, Kono put a finger to her ear to confirm that she could hear audio from the surveillance room.

"Confirm that Jax can respond, please," Chin directed Kono.

Kono smoothed the curls back from Jax's face. "Okay, Jax, I know you're sleepy, but can you hear me?"

Danny and Steve watched as Jax gave a thumbs up.

"Are you comfortable? Can you hang in there, or do you need us to call this off?"

Danny broke into a grin as Jax extended the single finger to indicate 'no' . . . her middle finger.

Steve chuckled, "I guess she's good for the op, then."

"I guardedly agree," Dr. Bryson said, as he entered the room. "Her head CT scan did come back okay, but that is a nasty concussion she has. I'm also not entirely comfortable with her white cell count. We are going to have to watch that closely. The IV access will come in handy, so we can sample as needed. I'm hoping we catch this guy quickly; I don't like the idea of keeping her sedated with that concussion, but without sedation she is going to be terribly uncomfortable with that ventilator tube."

"Okay, we will work in rotating shifts. Danny and I will start; Chin, why don't you and Malia get out of here, go grab some down time. Who do we page in an actual medical emergency?" Steve asked.

"Page me, please," Dr. Bryson replied, "as I don't plan to leave this hospital until this case is closed. I will be in the doctor's lounge if I need to sleep, and I will make sure someone wakes me if I happen to miss my pager going off."

"Sounds good," Steve nodded, "Okay, Kono, make sure Jax is okay with you leaving and then come on up."

Kono turned back to Jax. "Jax, the guys have you on audio and visual, okay? Are you okay with me leaving the room so we can catch this guy?"

Jax gave a thumbs up sign and then closed her fist and lifted it slightly. Kono grinned widely and fist-bumped her.

Before Malia left with Chin, she made sure that Kono was comfortable with tracking Jax's vital signs. While they wanted to give the killer ample opportunity to access the room, they still had to deal with the very real situation that Jax was sedated and still concussed.

Steve handed Kono a pillow and blanket he had snagged from the nurses station. "Why don't you catch some rest, Kono? We'll make sure to wake you when you need to check vitals. I don't know how long we'll be at this. Good job, today, by the way."

"Thanks, boss . . . Jax had the hard part. That's pretty hard-core. You trained her well, Danny. I'm impressed." Kono smirked, knowing she wasn't the only one impressed with the feisty officer.

()()()()()()()()

A few hours passed in seeming slow motion. Danny and Steve watched the monitors quietly while Kono dozed.

"Steve," Danny nodded toward the monitor, noticing Jax's hand flexing and twitching.

"I see it," Steve responded, "Maybe she'll settle. If not, we'll send Kono to check on her."

They watched as Jax continued to move her hand restlessly, and started to move her head. She looked as if she was trying to lift her head up.

"She's going to hurt herself," Danny said.

Steve was already heading toward Kono, shaking her gently. "Hey, Nurse Kono . . . I think our patient needs you."

Kono quickly swung her legs over the side of the bed and grabbed her stethoscope. She was pleased that Malia had taken the time to teach her the basic skills and that the guys had entrusted her with this part of the op.

"Should we page Dr. Bryson?" Danny was asking.

Steve frowned. "I don't think so, Danny . . . let's let Kono check her vitals but I think she might just be having a bad dream."

They watched the monitors as Kono entered the room. Stepping over to Jax, she smoothed her curls back again.

"Jax, it's Kono. Shhhh . . . it's okay. Are you in pain?"

Steve and Danny watched anxiously for a response from Jax.

Kono tried again. "Jax, can you hear me?"

Jax stilled as if she were trying to find the source of the voice. _Danny's friend Kono. She's talking to me? Why?_

"Jax, are you in pain?"

_No, in fact, I feel absolutely fan-frickin'-tastic. Floaty._

"Jax," Kono spoke more sharply, "can you squeeze my hand?"

_Sure. I can do that._

"Okay, good, good job. Now, do you remember our signals? Thumbs up for yes, lift one finger for no, okay?"

_Okie dokie, Kono._

"Are you in pain?"

_Nope, no pain. Oh! Lift a finger. Okay. There._

"Okay, I'm going to check your vital signs, okay? Remember, you're sedated for an undercover op. No, don't try to talk, you have a tube down your throat."

_Oh that's right. Undercover. For Danny and Steve and Five-O. Still don't know what that means._

Kono checked Jax's pulse and blood pressure. She spoke quietly so that Steve and Danny could hear. "Okay, pulse is a little rapid but her blood pressure is good. She's responding. I think she's okay, guys."

Kono spoke to Jax again. "Jax, were you uncomfortable? Were you having a bad dream?"

Jax frowned a bit around the tube in her mouth.

_I was remembering something. What was it? Was it important? A yoga class. And something after. I don't like this . . . I think I want to wake up._

Kono realized that Jax was trying to open her eyes.

"Shhhh, no, don't open your eyes . . . just rest. You want me to stay here with you a bit?"

_Yes. I can't remember but something was wrong. I don't have my gun and badge. That's not good. Yes. Oh, thumb. Thumb up. Yes._

Kono pulled up a chair. "Okay, shh . . . it's okay. I'll stay here."

When Jax seemed to settle into a deeper, more comfortable sleep, Kono slipped out.

()()()()()()()()

Chin and Malia returned to the hospital bearing food and coffee for the rest of the team. Steve, Danny, and Kono smiled gratefully and dug in.

"We suspected that you guys would refuse to leave, so we figured the least we could do was bring dinner. Anything suspicious?" Chin asked.

"No, there's been no one anywhere near the room," Steve wearily replied, "and based on the reports, it seems that there was anywhere between twenty-four hours and four days before our killer made a move with the previous victims."

Malia frowned. "I don't think we can keep Jax sedated much longer than twenty-four hours, not with that concussion."

"Well, let's hope our guy shows soon," said Danny, finishing off his coffee.

Kono reached for her hospital ID and stethoscope. "It's time to check vitals."

"Let me," Malia said, "I need to get a blood sample. We're keeping an eye on that white blood cell count."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Danny asked. "Is that normal?"

"We're hoping that right now it just means that she's fighting an infection, but we want to keep an eye on it."

Steve leaned back in the office chair in front of the surveillance equipment. "You know about the stitches on her hip? Nasty knife lac; seventeen stitches. Not dissolvable either, which confuses me. Oh, and she cut her foot on a shell. Last night. I irrigated it and butterflied it, but it did get sand in it."

Malia nodded, "Yes, both are on record and either could be the source of the problem. She may need some antibiotics."

"But she'll be okay, right?" Danny asked, his face drawn with worry.

"She's in good hands, Danny," Malia assured him, "in fact, better that she's here with us checking it than pushing herself to keep up with you four, which I suspect is what she would be doing otherwise. We'll take good care of her, I promise."

The team watched the surveillance cameras as Malia checked Jax's vitals and took a blood sample.

"Why don't you two at least stretch your legs, close your eyes for a few," Chin suggested. "Kono and I will keep an eye on the video feed."

The team settled in for an uneasy night.

()()()()()()()()


	4. Chapter 4

()()()()()()()()

**Thursday**

They'd alternated shifts of resting and monitoring throughout the night. The sun was just rising when Chin noticed someone entering Jax's room.

"Guys. We've got movement."

Danny and Steve were instantly alert at Chin's terse statement. Moving to the surveillance desk, they watched as a young man in scrubs entered the room.

Steve indicated the camera controls. "Kono, can you zoom in on that id badge, please?"

"Sure, boss. Okay, I'm reading Chase Markham, Respiratory Therapy."

"What do you think, Malia? Do you recognize him?" Chin asked.

"No, not at all . . . and those are the wrong color scrubs for respiratory therapy."

The team immediately reached for weapons, and Kono watched the screen in growing alarm as the mousy looking man wedged a chair under the doorknob.

"Boss, he's barricading the door, we need to move. This has to be our guy."

Chin shoved the radio at Malia. "Keep us posted on what he's doing," he said as he rushed from the room. "We've all got earpieces in."

()()()()()()()()

The team had barely reached the stairs when they heard Malia speaking urgently into the microphone. "I'm paging Dr. Bryson and the real respiratory team . . . guys, he just injected something into her IV port – the real one. I'm right behind you."

"Shit," Steve bit out, as he and Danny took off running; Kono and Chin right on their heels.

"We never should have left her in there alone," Danny said.

Steve shot him a stricken look as he threw his weight against the door. It barely budged.

"FIVE-O," he shouted, "open this door!"

There was no response from inside the room. The guy had either panicked or was so truly psychopathic that he was going to attempt to carry out his plan regardless of the heavily armed team just outside.

"Chin, do it," Steve said, indicating Chin's shotgun. "Careful, this door will fragment like shrapnel."

Chin nodded grimly, and efficiently put two rounds through the door, angling downward from the doorknob. The door and chair splintered and gave when Steve and Danny launched themselves against it, Chin and Kono right behind them with their weapons trained into the room. Chin held up a warning hand to Malia, who had arrived, breathless, at the entrance from the staircase.

"Five-O," Danny shouted at the man standing over Jax, his hand hovering over her stomach. "Get your filthy hands off her."

He looked up at them, eyes wild and unfocused. "But her beautiful red hair . . .I must have her for my collection," he said, still holding the half-empty syringe.

"Drop it," Steve ordered, "or I'll put a round straight between your eyes, I swear to God."

"Steve," Malia cautioned from the hallway, "we need him to tell us what he injected into her IV."

Danny and Steve both stepped aggressively toward the crazed man. "Drop it," Danny warned, with an edge of menace in his voice that had Kono glancing at him. She'd never heard Danny sound so absolutely dangerous. It was a little unsettling.

"Please, you don't understand," he began, looking earnestly at Danny. That was all the distraction Steve needed, and he moved in so quickly that the man was disarmed and handcuffed almost before the rest of the team could react.

Danny raised his eyebrows at Steve. Seriously, he'd worked with the man for almost a year, and he suspected that he'd only begun to see what the SEAL was capable of. Steve shrugged and gave the man a shake. "What did you shoot her up with?" Shake. "Tell us." Shake. "Now." Shake.

The man smiled eerily. "She will live forever, you see. All of my beautiful collections will live forever."

Danny shoved his pistol against the man's temple. "What did you give her, you son of a bitch?" he questioned menacingly.

At that moment, several alarms began beeping wildly. Malia shoved her way past Chin and Kono and rushed to Jax's bed.

"She's stopped breathing."

()()()()()()()()

Chin and Kono took Chase Markham back to headquarters with promises that someone would text them as soon as there was word on Jax. Steve and Danny paced in the waiting room. The waiting was unbearable, and they didn't even have a suspect to interrogate to take out their frustration. Markham was clearly too unbalanced to be useful, and they could only hope that it was his own "collection" fueled by his own demented brain, and that he wasn't working for someone else. Chin and Kono were going to have their hands full trying to get any helpful information out of him. Steve and Danny hadn't trusted themselves not to kill him outright and had gladly handed him over to the cousins.

"What is taking so long," Danny groaned in frustration.

"Danny," Steve began hesitantly, "I am so sorry . . . "

Danny sighed. "Just save it, Steve."

"Danny, look, man . . . "

"No, really. I'm not angry with you, Steven. Well, I am, but only in the usual, general sense of the word. Not specifically angry. This was her idea to begin with, she just talked you into it. She's very convincing. And, she's got you wrapped around her finger, I might add." Danny held up a finger as Steve opened his mouth to protest. "Don't deny it. I understand perfectly."

Steve scrubbed his hand down his face. He was exhausted; eyes burning, tense, jacked up on adrenaline and caffeine. Nothing to shoot. Just waiting, not knowing . . . he sighed, looking at the door.

Danny's hand was warm and comforting on his shoulder. "She's a fighter, Steve, we know that already. And she's in good hands."

Dr. Bryson and Malia came through the door and both sat down heavily in the chairs. The rush of adrenaline was over, leaving them feeling as if they had run a marathon.

Danny and Steve practically pounced on them.

"She's okay, guys," Malia began. "We had to turn on the ventilator for real, she's not breathing on her own, but she didn't go more than minute without oxygen."

"She's not breathing on her own? How is that okay?" Danny exclaimed.

"We think she was given a paralytic," Dr. Bryson explained. "It would make sense; it would keep the victims from moving. But her heart rate is strong, so obviously she wasn't given a lethal dose. We think there may have been a minute tear in her lung, probably from a tiny rib fragment that didn't show up on the x-ray. Between that and the drugs, her lungs just couldn't compensate. But," he hastened to add, seeing the alarm on Steve's face, "we think that she will be breathing on her own within the hour. It was safer and more effective to turn on the vent that was already in place, rather than to try resuscitation."

"We have one other problem," Malia continued. "Her white blood cell count is definitely too high. We've cultured both her knife wound and the cut on her foot, and we're waiting for the blood tests to come back, but she's definitely got an infection. We're treating her with broad spectrum antibiotics until we know exactly what we're dealing with."

"She doesn't sound okay," Danny said worriedly.

"Well, her concussion was significant; her lung was slightly damaged; and that was before this undercover operation. We're testing to see what kind of drug she was injected with, and what kind of infection she has. I'm not going to lie, gentleman, the officer is seriously injured and seriously ill. But, we have absolutely no reason to think that she's not going to make a speedy and full recovery," Dr. Bryson explained, "especially now that she's resting and being treated properly." He frowned slightly at Danny and Steve. All medical personnel on the island were familiar with the consequences of the risk-taking group. Most ER doctors knew them by their first names and already had their drug allergies memorized.

Steve and Danny both slumped slightly in their chairs, relief and guilt battling for first place.

"Can we see her?" Steve asked quietly.

"Of course," Malia said, "Hold her hand, talk to her . . . we want to pull her back toward awareness and consciousness as much as possible. She's just on the barest of sedation now. We'll be watching closely to see if she starts fighting the ventilator. It might look scary when that happens, but trust me, it will be a good sign."

()()()()()()()()

Malia had thoughtfully ensured that two comfortable chairs were waiting in Jax's room. Danny slipped in the chair closest to Jax and took her hand in his. He smoothed back the unruly curls over her face and gently rubbed her bruised and bloody knuckles.

"Hey, kid . . . you gotta quit scaring me like this. I am not as young as I used to be. Steve has worn me out with his crazy stunts and I need you to start being a little more sane, got me? But you can start by waking up for us, babe. We're right here; we got the bad guy, the op is over. So you just need to get better."

Steve stood a bit awkwardly by the bed, his eyes drawn to the back of Jax's other hand. Apparently Markham had been reckless at his injection attempt, and while the port had been flushed and removed, it had torn into her vein and now her entire hand was black and blue.

_She came here to heal up and she looks so much worse . . . how the hell did I let this happen?_

Steve's self-incrimination was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Malia thought you might need some of the good stuff from the doctor's lounge," a young nurse said, as she entered with steaming cups of coffee.

Danny reached out for the coffee. "Chin needs to marry that woman."

Steve thoughts drifted to Jax and her appreciation for the strong Hawaiian coffee. He had to swallow hard around a sudden tightening of his throat. "Danny, my God, what if . . . "

Danny picked up immediately on Steve's line of thought and quickly interrupted him. "Steven – speedy and full recovery, remember. She's going to be okay. She did not survive training with me and 9/11 only to come let an infection on this pineapple infested island get her down."

Steve chuckled. Inspiration struck, and he began to remove the lid from his coffee.

"What are you doing?"

"I have an idea." Steve held the open, steaming, cup of coffee close to Jax.

Danny chuckled. "Hey, it's worth a try."

They watched intently for any sign of movement from Jax. Steve continued to hold the coffee where Jax could smell it, and Danny continued to talk softly to her.

"Nothing," Steve sighed in disappointment.

"Give it time, partner."

()()()()()()()()

_Jax watched in horror as bodies started falling from the buildings. It was incomprehensible, indescribable. The sound . . . Nothing in her training had prepared her for this. She had managed to get a small group of civilians moving away from the towers – they had frozen in fear and the other officers had not been able to convince them to move. Somehow they responded to Jax. She was currently applying a pressure bandage to an NYPD officer who had been struck with a large piece of glass._

_"Get me a bus over here," she shouted over the chaos, "This guy needs evac immediately."_

_"Hang on, buddy, you're going to be okay," she assured the officer. Her hands were slippery with blood. His, others . . . probably some of hers, if the sense of wetness dripping into her eyes was any indication._

_She focused intently on applying pressure, deliberately turning her head away from the base of the tower. She couldn't block out the sound, though. Irregular. Unpredictable. But it wasn't stopping._

_Thud._

_An ambulance stopped to pick up the officer from Jax. The EMT tried to look at the cut over Jax's eye._

_"I'm good, I'm good," she insisted,"take him."_

_Shaking his head, the EMT tossed Jax a handful of gauze pads and a couple of large moist towels. "At least wipe off the blood, and put pressure on that cut."_

_Thud._

_Jax heard the officer behind her gag and retch. "Got any water bottles to spare?" she asked the EMTs._

_"Yeah, here,"he responded."Good luck."_

_Jax nodded grimly. She steeled herself, turned around, and offered a water bottle to the other officer._

_"Here," she said gently. "Have some water. I know, this is god-awful. I know."_

_The officer raised miserable eyes to Jax to take the water, and she saw his eyes widen in panic. Then all she knew was horrific pain and then, blessedly, blackness._

()()()()()()()()

Steve hadn't realized he had fallen asleep holding Jax's hand until he felt the frantic movement beneath his fingers. Coming to full awareness in an instant, he looked for Danny, who was dozing in a chair across the room.

"Danno," he said quietly, indicating Jax's other hand, also moving restlessly against the sheets. He let go of the hand he was holding . . . _what is she trying to do?_

They watched as Jax frantically moved her hands, clenching and unclenching her fingers.

Danny quickly moved to press the nurse's call button. Alarms started to beep as her heart rate increased. Suddenly, she reached for her throat and they could see her fighting to open her eyes.

Malia rushed into the room and the guys backed up to give her space. Checking the readouts, Malia bent down to speak to Jax. "Jax, you're in the hospital. It's okay. No, don't try to talk just yet, you're on a ventilator but we can take it out, because you're breathing. Give it just a bit of time, okay? I'm turning of the machine so you can breathe on your own. We're going to let you wake up more and then we'll get that tube out, ok? Shhhhh, it's okay. Relax for me, Jax. Good girl." Malia switched off the active ventilator and continued to speak soothingly to Jax.

"She's still very agitated," Malia said to Danny. "Try to get her to settle. She's fighting the ventilator and the sedation."

Steve fought back a sudden sting of moisture in his eyes. He hated this part . . . he'd been through it too many times and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Watching Jax go through it was agonizing. He had no idea where she was in her head but it couldn't be a good place.

Danny was talking to Jax, soothing her as if she were Gracie after a bad dream. It wasn't working. She was becoming more agitated, still clenching and unclenching her fists, restlessly moving her head from side to side. Her heart was racing dangerously. When she started to reach for the tube in her mouth, Steve decided to try a different approach, desperate to keep her from hurting herself.

"Officer Nolan," he barked sharply, "you need to pull it together. The situation is under control."

Danny looked up in surprise but quickly caught on to Steve's attempt to connect with Jax through the obvious and distressing panic. Steve gently grasped Jax's small hands in his. Her heart rate dropped marginally, although not enough to silence the alarms.

Steve continued to talk to Jax. "Officer Nolan, you're in a hospital; you're injured but stable. You need to stand down and let us handle this."

Jax's respirations and heart rate slowed, but her restless hand movements continued.

Malia returned with Dr. Bryson.

"You're doing great, Steve, try to get her settled," Malia encouraged.

Steve nodded. He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. "Jax, sweetheart, it's Steve. Danny is here. Can you hear me? Do you remember your signal?"

Jax gave a thumbs up, and Danny and Steve both heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay, good girl," Danny said. "Malia is here to get that tube out of your throat, okay?"

Jax tried to nod but quickly realized that it hurt her throat. She gave a thumbs up.

"She hasn't opened her eyes," Danny whispered to Malia.

"That's okay. She's still coming out of the sedation," Malia explained. "Jax, we're going to pull this tube. I'm going to count to three and then I want you to cough as hard as you can, okay?"

Jax gave a thumbs up, and reached her hand out. Steve grabbed her hand and she held on tight.

"That's it, Jax, we're right here, babe," Danny encouraged.

Malia gave the count and Jax coughed and gagged as the tube was pulled out. "Her lungs are okay," Malia assured them. Dr. Bryson stepped in with a penlight and checked Jax's pupils. She weakly tried to pull away from him. "Pupils look marginally better; definitely no worse."

Malia patted Danny on the arm. "Okay, so medically she is stable. This is good, Danny. We will continue to monitor her heart rate but she's going to come out of this just fine. Just work on calming her; I think this is more the reaction Steve was worried about than anything medical that's going on. I'll send Julia with ice chips; Jax's throat is going to be irritated."

Danny hugged Malia in relief as she and Dr. Bryson left. He collapsed into a chair and watched as Steve continued to talk to Jax. Danny smiled fondly as his partner folded his tall frame over Jax's bed. He watched as Steve repeatedly combed his fingers through her curls and gently stroked her cheek.

_Yeah, not brotherly._

Steve thought he saw Jax's eyes flutter, her lashes dark against her pale skin. "Hey, Jax, sweetheart, that's it. Open those beautiful green eyes for me." He watched helplessly as she clenched and unclenched her fists, and rubbed her hands anxiously together. He glanced at Danny, anguish in his eyes.

"Any idea what that is, Danny?"

"No, babe, I wish I knew. This is killing me. This is what it's like sitting by you in the hospital, by the way, Steven. And you wonder why I constantly yell at you to be more careful. It's because of this."

Jax whimpered and Danny swore he could feel Steve's heart clench from across the room.

"Jax," Steve whispered, "It's okay. It's okay . . . open your eyes." He looked up at Danny. "Danno, come here . . . you're more familiar. Talk to her."

Danny came and took Jax's hand. "Hey, rookie. Time to wake up. Open your eyes for me."

Jax stirred and squeezed Danny's hand. "That's right babe, I'm right here, and so is Steve. We did it, we got the bad guy. You're all done, time to wake up. We can take you home."

Finally, Danny caught a glimpse of Jax's eyes peeking out between thick lashes. "D'no?" she murmured weakly.

Steve and Danny both broke into relieved smiles. "Yeah, babe, it's Danno. How you doing? You okay?"

"Get it off me, please," Jax pleaded, her voice cracking and rasping.

"What, babe, what do you need me to get off?" Danny asked.

"All the blood, Danny, get it off me."

_Ah, shit._ Steve realized that Jax was reliving some very, very bad memories.

"Shhh, there's no blood, babe," Danny said quietly. "That was from a different case. You're in the hospital, you were undercover. There's no blood. You're okay."

"Danny?" Jax rubbed at her throat, her eyes. "Where's Billy? Did he make it out? Did you call him?"

Danny's heart stopped. Steve looked at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"Brother," Danny mouthed silently.

"Danny, is Billy okay? Did you call him?" Jax was struggling to sit up.

"Babe," Danny said gently, "that was years ago. Remember? We lost him when the second tower fell, remember?"

Jax pressed trembling hands over her eyes and nodded sharply. "Yeah. Yeah, Danno, of course. I'm . . . I just . . . " she ground out, brokenly. "Yeah, I remember. Sorry. I'm okay."

Steve brought over the ice chips that the nurse had slipped quietly into the room. "Here," he said quietly, holding a spoonful to Jax's trembling lips. She gratefully allowed him to slip some into her mouth.

"Hey, Super SEAL," she rasped, "we got the guy, right?" She smiled even as she brushed the tears out of her eyes.

"Yeah, Jax, we got him."

Jax sagged in relief onto the pillow. "Good. We did good."

She smiled broadly at the guys, her face lit up in relief and pride. In the next instant, her eyes filled with confusion as alarms began to blare and her heart rate skyrocketed again.

"What the hell?!" Danny exclaimed in alarm.

"Jax," Steve said urgently, "Jax, sweetheart, look at me. I've got you. Okay? I've got you. Help me out with this, Danny," he directed, as he scooped Jax up out of the bed and sat down in the chair, holding her close. Danny swiftly untangled the heart monitor leads and rolled the IV pole over.

"Hand me that blanket, Danny. It's okay, Jax, I've got you. Just ride it out. Breathe."

Danny tucked the blanket around Jax.

Malia came into the room and tilted her head at the unorthodox situation of her patient, but smiled warmly at Steve.

"Adrenaline dump," Steve explained tersely, stroking Jax's hair.

Malia nodded in agreement. "Let me just check her pulse and BP, okay? No, don't move her. I'll work around you." Satisfied that Jax was stable, Malia disconnected everything but the IV.

"We're going to leave this in for the antibiotics and one more bag of fluids, but everything else can go. I trust your judgment as well as any heart monitor at this point, Steve."

Danny sat down in the chair across the room from Steve.

Steve looked at Danny over his armful of shaking Jax. "Is it this bad, Danny?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean? Oh, you mean when you refuse to stay in the hospital where you belong, and I have to sit by your bed and wait for you to wake up shaking at 2 am, and you don't remember who I am or where you are? Yes, Steven. It's exactly this bad."

"I'm sorry, Danno. And thanks."

"We're good, babe. And you're welcome."

()()()()()()()()

**Friday**

Aside from hanging the final bag of IV antibiotics, Malia left Danny and Steve to take care of Jax in the few remaining hours until dawn.

Chin and Kono were kept updated, and reported back to Steve that they had finally called HPD to transport Markham to the psychiatric wing of the prison. "He's a menace to public safety, for sure," Chin explained, "But he's completely unbalanced. We've given up trying to get anything useful out of him. You need Kono and I to come give you and Danny a break? Malia says Jax has had a rough time of it. Danny holding up okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, we're good," Steve replied wearily, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

"You holding up okay, brah? Teasing aside, it's obvious you've become quite attached. You good?"

"I'm good, Chin. Thanks. Catch up with you later. You and Kono head home, get some rest."

Danny smiled as Jax woke up and rubbed her eyes. "Time'zit?"

"Well, sunshine, it is approaching 9 am. Nice for you to wake up without trying to give one of us a concussion."

"Sorry, Danno. Hey, look," Jax lifted her arm. "No more IV. You know what this means?"

"You are no longer at death's door, just still severely concussed, bruised, and exhausted?"

"No, it means I gotta get up and go pee. And take a shower. And brush my teeth. Hey, go find me some coffee, please?"

()()()()()()()()

Danny leaned against the wall next to Steve.

"What, you just left her in there?" Steve protested.

"Hey, she threatened my life," Danny said, holding his hands up in surrender. "It is remarkably like being in your hospital room, Steven. She insisted on a trip to the bathroom, wouldn't wait for a nurse. I damn sure wasn't going in there with her."

Danny started walking down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Steve demanded.

"Coffee run. I'm bringing coffee back for Jax. I am. Not you. You are not handing her coffee right now because that is too disturbing for me to witness," Danny informed Steve, as he fell in beside him.

"I'm absolutely positive that I can leave, Malia," Jax was adamantly arguing with Malia when the guys returned, coffee in hand.

She did look significantly better. She had managed to shower and get dressed in street clothes in the short time it had taken them to cajole some good coffee from the nurses.

"You can barely stand up, Jax." Malia was pleading her case for Jax to spend another day in the hospital. Steve grinned.

"Oh, what are you smirking at, Commander," Malia huffed in frustration. "It's like trying to get you to stay overnight after a gunshot wound. I swear, I give up on the lot of you. Which of you is going to assume responsibility for my patient?"

"I will," Steve said, looking at Jax, "If that's okay with Jax."

She averted her eyes, pale cheeks tinging slightly pink. "I'm sure I've been quite enough trouble to you. Um, maybe Kono –"

"Kono's place is smaller than this room and unless you plan on sleeping on a surfboard outside, it wouldn't work," Steve explained kindly. "Your stuff is already at my house, and I'm not half bad at taking care of those stitches." He went in for the kill. "Besides, the ocean is right at my back door."

Danny handed Jax her coffee and shot Steve a glare when she gave a sigh of appreciation.

Malia nodded. "Steve is more than capable, if Jax will be cooperative. We did determine that the knife laceration was the source of infection; the IV antibiotics should have it cleared up, but any fever, or increased redness, you let me know, okay? And on Monday, you come back here to get the stitches out."

"I don't think so," Jax shook her head stubbornly. "The cut that the hospital stitched up got infected; the cut that Steve irrigated in his kitchen didn't. I'll take my chances with the SEAL."

Malia chuckled, half frustrated and half amused. Shoving a handful of discharge papers and several prescriptions at Steve, she said, "Here you go, Commander. She's all yours."

_Damn straight_ , Steve's brain offered.

Steve worked very hard to school his features not to reveal the ridiculous thrill of delight that went through him at Malia's words. The look on Danny's face told him that he had failed.

()()()()()()()()

"This is the least you've been in the office since we started, Steve," Danny observed that evening. Jax was dozing in one of the chairs by the water while Steve and Danny cleaned up the minimal mess after dinner from the grill.

"This was a different case, Danny; mostly paperwork and surveillance."

"I'm sorry you didn't get to blow anything up, Super SEAL. So, I'm thinking, tomorrow's Saturday, how about you actually take a weekend like a normal working stiff? I can't think of any other way we're going to convince Jax to rest up. She obviously loves sitting by the water. We have minimal paperwork to deal with to close the case. I could swing by around lunch time. Wait, what am I thinking? You're probably dying to get back in the office. How about I swing by first thing in the morning, I'll stay with Jax , you go in, help Kono and Chin close out the case."

Steve narrowed his eyes at Danny, who looked back at him, the picture of innocence . . . except for that damned twinkle in his eye.

"I've got you, don't I? You're gonna have to admit that you want to spend more time with Jax . . . you'd actually prefer to be here with her than at work. That's definitely a first. I've never seen a woman that could compete with the opportunity to shoot something. You seriously have a thing for her, admit it."

"Okay, yes, Danno. There's . . . something," Steve shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Neither of us have had any sleep. How about we both work from here tomorrow? You sleep in, then swing by the office and grab the paperwork. Whatever Chin and Kono haven't finished, we'll take care of here, send them home."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea. And Jax might kill me, but I'm going to put in a call to someone I trust at her precinct. I want to see if we can get some idea of which way this case is going to go."

Steve nodded and started brewing a pot of coffee. Danny threw up his hands in exasperation. "Could you wait until I leave?"

"What? It's just coffee, Danny."

"Yes, and you have quite possibly ruined that for me forever, you Neanderthal. I'm saying good bye to Jax and then I'm going to go spend a few minutes with Gracie while I pretend not to know things that I would rather not know."

"Danny, you know I'm going to be a perfect gentleman. Give me some credit."

"Oh, I know that. I just don't want to be here to witness the goofy smile and the . . . oh, just don't share anything more with me . . . I can't take it. Look, there it is: Smitten Face."

"Sorry Danny," Steve said, trying to look at least a little sorry as he pulled two mugs out of the cabinet. He failed.

()()()()()()()()

Danny gently brushed Jax's hair out of her face. "Hey, kid, I'm heading out. You sure you're okay here?"

"Yeah, Danny, I'm good. I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Good; that's pretty much the plan from here on out. I can't believe you talked Steve into letting you do this undercover. I can't believe I let either of you talk me into it! You were supposed to be resting up and you're in worse shape than when you got here."

"No way," Jax protested, "I'm positive my shoulder is improving."

"Don't be a smartass. Behave yourself, get some actual rest, okay? No more cooking up crazy schemes with the soldier, got it?"

"Sailor, Danno, sailor. It's the Navy."

Danny groaned. "Not you, too! What is it with you people?"

"Ah, my old man was Navy, remember? I wouldn't dare make that mistake. Besides, everything about Steve puts him in or near the water."

"What do you mean?"

Jax shrugged. "It's the way he moves – as if he's constantly just a little bit surprised that there's not resistance in the air, like there is in the water. He's incredibly balanced, which means he's got sea legs. Haircut that is clearly a combination of ex-military and surfer. Perfectly even tan, which you only get when there's reflection of the sun off the water. I've watched him swim, it's like the water is his natural habitat or something. Oh, and his eyes are the color of the ocean. But that's irrelevant, just a random observation."

Danny stared at Jax.

"What? You taught me basic observation and profiling skills."

"Oh, my dear, that goes way beyond basic observation. His eyes are the color of the ocean?"

"Shut up, Danny. Stupid concussion and drugs. This is why I don't take those pills. Go see Gracie."

Danny laughed as he kissed Jax on the top of the head. "The two of you idiots deserve each other, I swear it."

()()()()()()()()

Steve sat down next to Jax. Her eyes were closed; he wasn't sure if she was asleep or just blocking out the sun. He took advantage of the opportunity to study her. The humidity had once again created a magnificent riot of red curls, but they still did little to hide the bruising on her cheek. She was paler than when she had first arrived, with dark circles under her eyes. All of the bruises had started the inevitable shift from dark purple to an odd green. Although she was dressed in light sweats and her usual oversized t-shirt, Steve could still envision the bruising on her ribs and back that her undercover running gear had revealed. The back of her hand, where Markham had blown her IV, was a brilliant shade of indigo and violet. Steve sighed. _I've done a lousy job of taking care of her. Danny should rip my arm off and beat me over the head with it._

"You're thinking too loud," Jax complained, cracking open one eye. "Do I smell coffee?"

"I was hoping the smell would wake you up . . . wasn't sure how else to accomplish that without risking injury and loss of dignity," Steve teased gently.

"Shut up and hand over the coffee, sailor."

"How is it that you always manage to get that right? Danny screws it up all the time. Calls me soldier."

Jax blushed, thinking of her conversation with Danny, and buried her face in her coffee. Steve shook his head at the sight of her bruised hands wrapped around the mug.

"How did I let you talk me in to putting you in undercover?"

"Because it was the perfect op and you know it. No one on your team fit the profile. And it worked, right? We got the guy. Everything else is . . . inconsequential, right?"

Steve launched himself out of his chair. "That's all that matters to you? You don't care about your safety? There's too many things we didn't anticipate, didn't have back up for. Damn it, Jax, I could have gotten you killed and you're sitting there smiling and practically thanking me for it. Do you have absolutely no comprehension of how infinitely –" Steve stopped short. _Precious. Valuable. Amazing. Whoa, sailor._ His brain continued on while he paced on the sand next to Jax's chair.

"Infinitely stupid?" Jax finished his sentence for him.

"Jax,no," Steve replied. "No, sweetheart, not stupid. Brave, and amazing, and talented. Do you really have no idea how incredible you are?" He crouched in front of her chair, gently rubbing her bruised and battered hands.

Jax swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat and blinked furiously.

"Look at me," Steve commanded, gently cupping her face and looking into her eyes. "You are a remarkable woman, Jacqueline Nolan. I'm not sure what or who has convinced you otherwise."

Jax shrugged. "I guess I'm a good enough cop."

Steve shook his head. "No, Jax. You're more than a good enough cop. I've read your file. You earned that spot on SWAT and every other commendation and position you've been given. You're a gifted cop. I've rarely seen people as committed as you were to this undercover op. You didn't even flinch . . ." Steve paused, remembering how the officer carrying Jax had struck her hand against the gurney. "That bruising didn't just come from the IV, did it? That happened in the ER. You didn't react, not one bit. That is an amazing gift. That's rare. Your willingness to even be there in the first place; what you overcame to put yourself in that position – you're an outstanding cop. But that's not even what I'm talking about, Jax. You are an amazing person. Don't you have anyone in your life who sees that . . .who helps you see that?"

"My brother . . . and Danny," Jax answered quietly.

"Jax," Steve sighed. "I'm so sorry for all you've lost." He gently thumbed away a tear that had escaped despite Jax's best efforts.

"Don't," Jax whispered. She was fighting for control, but pain, exhaustion, and the lingering effects of sedation and drugs were making it almost impossible. "I can hold it together, really. I'm fine."

"Why? Why do you think you need to hold it together, Jax?"

Her confusion was genuine. "Steve, I'm a cop. I'm SWAT . . . or I was supposed to be, anyway. Losing control is not an option."

"Okay, I understand that; I do. Losing control while you're on the job is not an option. But you're more than the job . . . right now, you're an injured off-duty cop, who just came out of a harrowing undercover op. Has it ever occurred to you to cut yourself some slack?"

Jax looked down again, chewing her bottom lip nervously.

_Still completely and utterly kissable._ Steve's brain continued to offer suggestions without his permission.

Steve sighed. Pushing her wasn't going to get him anywhere, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to resist the urge to tangle his hands in her hair and kiss some sense into her. He settled for brushing her hair out of her eyes and dropping a quick kiss to her forehead. _Hey, just like Danny. Very brotherly. Nothing to see here, folks._

"Come on, let's go get that dressing changed, and let me take a look at that foot . . . and now your hands. Danny is going to kill me if I don't do a better job of keeping you in one piece."

()()()()()()()()

They went through the now-familiar routine of dressing changes and coffee in the kitchen. Steve tried to ignore how strangely content the ritual made him feel.

After changing the dressing over her stitches, and gently settling the waistband of her shorts back in place, he brushed his fingers lightly over her t-shirt, where he remembered seeing the scar.

"I, um, noticed the scars when you were wearing the running gear," he said, his fingers gentle and warm. "Did it miss your kidney?"

Jax smiled. Only someone with extensive field medic training would think to ask such a question.

"Yeah, missed the kidney. Nicked my spleen, though," she said, "and they had to take that out. It does make me a little more likely to get an infection."

Steve hesitated; Jax had been through plenty. "This happen on 9/11?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, but didn't offer any additional information.

"You think you'll be okay sleeping?" he asked, as he wound a fresh bandage around her foot and then reached for her hand. He added a layer of gauze around the recently aggravated abrasions on her knuckles. "Malia sent us home with a lot of drugs; at least one is a sleeping pill, I'm sure."

Jax shrugged. "You take those?"

"No," Steve answered. "They don't really help."

"Yeah, they make you sleep alright but the problem is . . . "

"You can't wake up from the nightmares."

Jax nodded slowly, looking intently into Steve's eyes. For a split second, she saw the completely unguarded version of the SEAL; saw the shadow of his own nightmares.

"Oh," Jax breathed out, barely a sigh, as she reached up hesitantly and brushed her fingers gently against Steve's temple . . . as if she could chase away his nightmares with a touch.

Come to think of it, he was pretty damn sure she could.

()()()()()()()()

**Saturday**

Danny hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment in disbelief.

"What's up, brah?" asked Kono, carrying a bakery bag into his office. "Looks like trouble."

Danny sighed. "She left her badge on her sergeant's desk."

"Jax?" Kono asked. "What, you think she doesn't intend to go back?"

"Sounds like it. She's going to be cleared of all of the asinine, ridiculous, ludicrous charges. They're going to ask her to come back – they want her at SWAT. And she left her badge behind. I don't know what to think, Kono."

"Danny, you know the typical police force isn't like Five-O, right? You were a detective. You had a female partner. It's different. Even with a group of good guys – it's a boy's club, a locker room mentality. I'm not going to invade her privacy but just based on the nature of her injuries . . ." Kono shrugged. "I can guess, Danny, at some reasons why she feels like she can't go back."

"I just can't believe . . . she's been through too much, Kono."

"She seems pretty tough, Danny. I'm sure you trained her well."

"Yeah, and then left her to fend for herself . . . "

Kono shook her head vehemently. "Don't you dare go there, Danny. What I know of Jax so far tells me that she would resent you assuming that she couldn't take care of herself. I know I would. I know, it's hard for you guys to see us in harm's way – don't argue, I see it in your eyes, all three of you – you're not chauvinists but you can't help it; it's part of your DNA, I get that. But don't insult her abilities or her decisions. She – we – chose this life. We know what comes with it."

"Thanks, Kono. What would we do without you to keep us in line, hunh?" Danny grabbed Kono in a quick hug. "I'm sorry we're all such big goofs half the time. You know it's because we just want to keep you safe, right? No matter how badass you are, you and Jax are both like my kid sisters."

"Yeah, I get it Danny. Speaking of kid sisters," she shot Danny a mischievous grin,"how long do you think before Jax and Steve figure out there's some distinctly non-sibling-like chemistry between the two of them?"

Danny smiled at Kono and picked up a stack of files. "Figuring it out? Done deal. Admitting it to each other? Your guess is as good as mine, kid. I'm heading over to Steve's now to finish up this paperwork, close the case. Funny, he somehow wasn't breaking down the door to get to the office today. Could have something to do with his houseguest, maybe? Anyway, you and Chin head on out, claim the rest of the weekend.

Kono laughed. "We'll all get paged if something comes in. Have a good one, Danno."

()()()()()()()()

Danny found Steve in the kitchen, yawning over a cup of coffee.

"Rough night?" he asked, wincing at the dark circles under Steve's eyes.

"Yeah, a little," Steve admitted, "more coffee than sleep, for both of us, I'm afraid. Between nightmares and that rib fracture, she had a rough night. She was a little more comfortable in the recliner . . . I ended up on the sofa. I was afraid she was gonna hurt herself."

Danny looked Steve over for bruises, but didn't see any.

"She didn't hurt me, Danny, if that's what you're worried about."

"Because she was relatively aware, or because your reflexes are fast enough?" Danny asked. Steve's sigh indicated the latter.

Danny sighed. "Okay, this is going to have to stop. I'm staying over tonight and you, Super SEAL, are going to get a full night's sleep."

"Danny," Steve protested, "Rachel –"

Danny cut him off short. "Rachel is going to grow up and behave like a rational adult, and I am going to grow a pair and quit being scared of her shadow. Besides," Danny grinned, "the current living arrangements don't affect Gracie. Unless you don't want Jax to stay here?"

"No, it's great for her to be here. I mean, it's fine. It makes sense. You have Gracie, and Kono's is too small, and Chin is back and forth between his place and Malia's," Steve answered quickly. "She can stay here as long as she needs." _Or, you know, indefinitely. Let's just say indefinitely._

"Great, but I'm still staying over tonight. I'll chase away the monsters, you'll get some decent rest. If we were to catch a case today I wouldn't trust you to shoot straight."

"Guys, this is ridiculous. I can't expect . . . this isn't fair to anyone. I'll go to a hotel, okay?"

They hadn't heard Jax wander into the kitchen. She stood a bit uncertainly in the doorway, bruises standing out in sharp relief against her pale skin.

"Absolutely not, Jersey girl, you are going to give us the perfect reason to have a Saturday relaxing like normal folk, and then because tonight is Saturday night and it is not my weekend to have Gracie, I am going to invite myself over for the evening because honestly, it's pathetic, sitting at home alone on a Saturday night. But first," Danny held up a bag with a flourish, "malasadas."

()()()()()()()()

Filling out the paperwork for the most recent case tied Steve's stomach in knots. Reliving the sense of helplessness, reading the hospital reports . . . he realized how close they had come to having the whole thing go very, very sideways.

He signed the very last paper with an angry slash of his pen, and stood up abruptly.

"I'm going for a swim," he announced to no one in particular.

Danny looked up from his file with raised eyebrows. "Go for it, Aquaman. And try to come back in a better mood, would you? I'm sorry you didn't get to shoot anything today."

Steve sighed and looked at the end of the table at Jax, who had fallen asleep with her head on an open file. "Sorry, Danny. It's just . . . "

"I know, babe, I had to sign the same papers you did. Go, you'll feel better after you swim. I'll watch Jax drool on the witness statement."

Steve smiled at the sight of Jax's red curls spread over the stack of papers.

"There's that face again," Danny commented.

"What? I do not have a face, Danny."

"Yep. Smitten face. Clearly."

Steve shook his head. "Okay, fine, Danno. Hey, if you think she's up for it, see if Kono and Chin and Malia want to join us this evening. Tomorrow's Sunday, maybe we can actually have a good evening and a day off for once."

()()()()()()()()

Despite Danny's concerns that Steve would jinx their rare down time, no new cases came in. By the time the sun was setting over the water, the team was winding down with Longboards after their meal.

Kono and Jax had offered to clean up after dinner, and the guys could hear their soft murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional laugh, drifting out from the kitchen. It had been a comfortable evening, and Danny was relieved to see Jax smiling and laughing with his ohana.

"Did you call back to NYPD today, Danny?" Steve asked. "What did you find out?"

"Yeah. Apparently, she turned in her badge before she left. I talked to Kono about it . . . she seems to think that maybe Jax just won't want to go back. I haven't talked to Jax yet."

Chin shrugged, nodding his head toward the house. "Seems Hawaii agrees with her. Maybe she'll stay."

Steve tried not to look too hopeful, but if Chin's eyebrows and Danny's knowing chuckle were any indication, he failed. That seemed to be happening a lot, lately.

()()()()()()()()

After Chin and Kono went home, Danny watched as Steve moved through the kitchen in what had obviously become a welcome routine. Coffee, Motrin, first aid kit.

"Cozy," he commented.

"What?"

Danny just shook his head as Jax padded into the kitchen in her usual gym shorts and FDNY t-shirt and headed straight for the coffee pot.

Steve started to hand her the Motrin, and hesitated. "Sure you don't want to try something stronger tonight?"

"No, this is good."

Steve nodded and tossed her the bottle, then turned to grab the first aid kit. Danny caught Jax's wince as she caught the bottle and tried to open it with bruised knuckles.

"Here, kid," he said, taking the bottle and opening it. He silenced her protests, saying, "Look, give me my turn to fuss over you a bit, okay? You still look like shit. Adorable, but shitty nonetheless."

As Steve approached with the gauze and antiseptic cream, Jax felt her eyes prick with a rush of emotion. She looked down, suddenly quite interested in the tile pattern of Steve's kitchen.

"What is it, babe?" Danny questioned, tilting her chin upward so that he could look her in the eyes.

Jax cleared her throat and shook her head. "It was a really, really good evening. I guess . . . it's been a long time, Danno. With Billy gone, when you left New Jersey . . . and I was working all different departments, no partner or team . . . " Jax shrugged, wincing again. _Stupid collarbone._

"Jax, babe, I am so sorry," Danny said, hugging her gently and smoothing her curls. "I'm so glad you came."

Jax grabbed the reins of her self-control and forced a grin. "Yeah, who knew? You needed a red-head to bait your latest crazy killer. Good thing I showed up. Okay, Super SEAL, do your thing with these stupid stitches. Two more days, right, and they come out? They're starting to itch."

She turned toward the counter, as usual, so Steve could reach the stitches. He caught Danny's worried glance behind her turned head and nodded, wordlessly communicating their mutual understanding that the defenses Jax had thrown up would need to be addressed . . . but not tonight.

()()()()()()()()

Having shuttled Steve up to bed with firm instructions to close the door and sleep, damn it, Danny settled in on the couch with the remote.

Jax paced around a bit, tired and restless but reluctant to try to sleep.

"Sit. You're making me dizzy. Come here, I'll find some mindless chick flick."

"As if," Jax rolled her eyes, but willingly plopped down on the sofa next to Danny. "How about football?"

"Okay, that's my girl. Let's see what we can find."

There was no football to be found, so they settled on an action movie. Danny noticed Jax struggling to stay awake and gently put his arm around her, pulling her head onto his shoulder.

"Sleep, kid. Just . . . close your eyes. Sleep. I'll be here. I'm sorry, Jax . . . I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you all these years. I had no idea I'd left you so alone. Let me be here now, okay? Let us all be here for you now."

Danny could feel the tension as Jax struggled against the emotions threatening to overwhelm her again, but she rested her head on his shoulder as he asked. As the ending credits scrolled across the screen, he realized that she had relaxed and fallen asleep. Snagging a pillow, he settled her more comfortably on the sofa and tossed a blanket over both of them, and allowed himself to fall asleep.

()()()()()()()()

If he hadn't been right next to her, Danny would have completely missed the quiet gasp that escaped Jax as she wrenched herself awake from a nightmare. He brushed her hair back from her face gently.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she croaked out, then launched herself off the sofa and toward the bathroom. Danny sighed as he heard her retching, and went to get a glass of water. He flipped on the coffee maker, assuming sleep was over for the night.

He waited outside the bathroom door until he heard water running, then knocked quietly.

"I'm okay, Danno, go back to sleep."

"I'm sure you're okay, kid, but I'm not going back to sleep. Got you a glass of water."

Jax opened the door and accepted the glass of water, thankful for the cool liquid against her freshly irritated throat.

"Stupid tube, my throat hurts," she complained.

"Hmm, yes, that's the big problem here," Danny said.

"Shut up. I want coffee. And I need to get outside," Jax mumbled, pushing past Danny.

"Okay, coffee is already on. Go. I'll bring you some."

Danny watched with growing alarm as Jax bolted out of the house and headed for the chairs by the water. He noticed that Steve had added a third chair and smiled.

"Getting outside helps," Steve said quietly, as he came into the kitchen. "Makes it easier to breathe."

"Yeah, I get that, "Danny answered. "You're supposed to be sleeping. I've got this."

"I slept enough. Slept better, knowing you were here watching out for her. I'm good."

"Okay, so she's asking for coffee, which I intend to take her. You want to join us?"

"Nah, we won't crowd her. She needs to talk, Danny. Really talk. But not until she's ready."

Danny ran a hand through his hair. "How will I know when she's ready? I'm feeling out of my element here, Steve."

Steve sighed and shook his head. "You won't know, Danny. But when the time is right, she needs to get some of this out of her head. It won't be a magic fix, but it will help."

"Yeah? How do you get the stuff out of your head?"

Steve shrugged. "I talk to you, sometimes. Joe, when it's classified. Grover. People who can actually understand, and not just pretend to understand."

"So those appointments I drove her to . . . "

"Probably useless. I suspect she manipulated them quite easily into signing her back to active duty. Not unusual. I've done it."

Danny stared at Steve, speechless for a moment. "This. This is supposed to make me feel good about being your partner? You admit to lying your way through a psych eval? Unbelievable."

"Danny. Did she try to kill you when she woke up?"

"No."

"Then she's in better shape than many. Relax."

"Relax, he says," Danny muttered as he grabbed a cup of coffee and headed out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sunday**

As soon as it was light enough, Steve strode down the yard toward the water, a cup of coffee in each hand. He handed Jax the second cup, brazenly throwing a wink at Danny when she enthusiastically hummed her thanks.

"Perv," Danny grumbled. "Hey, where's my refill?"

"Fresh pot in the kitchen, Danny. You're not concussed or fractured, no special treatment for you."

"Rough night?" Steve asked Jax quietly.

"I'm good now," she replied, steadily looking into his eyes.

Steve nodded and stood up. "I'm going to swim. You two discuss what we should do with our Sunday off."

Jax didn't hesitate. "Shooting range. I want my gun back, and I need to go shoot something."

Steve grinned broadly. "I like the way you think, Jax." He pulled off his shirt and headed into the water.

Jax tilted her head just slightly to the side. _Very, very nice . . . ink. Very nice._

Danny groaned. "Oh dear Lord . . ."

"What?" Jax and Steve asked, in unison.

Danny threw his hands up in exasperation. "Nothing. Just . . . nothing."

()()()()()()()()

By the time Steve finished his swim, Jax was dressed and pacing in the living room, nagging at Danny to hurry.

"It's been almost a week since I've done anything remotely normal, Danny. You've had my piece locked in your stupid office since I landed."

"Hold on, Rambo, we will be on our way soon, I promise. Steven, if you are finished swimming your customary fifteen miles, can we please be on our way?"

"Yep, give me five minutes," Steve tossed over his shoulder, bounding up the stairs.

A quick stop by headquarters and they were on their way to Steve's favorite range.

Jax lovingly placed her Sig back into its holster and sighed happily.

 _Guns. Coffee. Noted._ Steve's brain helpfully pointed out. "What?" he said aloud, smirking as Danny narrowed his eyes at him.

"So, how is this going to work with a fractured collarbone?" Danny asked Jax.

"My Sig has less recoil than the Glock, Danny, I'll be fine."

The three donned ear protection and fired off their first set of rounds. Jax knew Danny was a solid, consistent shot. She was impressed that his skills seemed to have improved even more since leaving Jersey.

"Nice," she commented.

"Yeah, well, since my partner risks our lives on a regular basis, I've not only had more field practice, I've had to spend more time at the range," Danny groused. Still, he was pleased that he could still impress his former rookie. He nodded at Jax's target. "You're pulling high and to the right, Jax. The Sig still has recoil – is it bothering your shoulder?"

She nodded and sent another target downfield. Rolling her neck and shoulder to try to loosen the stiff muscles, she widened her stance slightly and fired off another set of rounds. This grouping was much tighter, but Steve frowned when he realized it was because she was forcing herself steady despite the increasing pain in her shoulder and collarbone.

"Nice grouping," Steve said, "but not worth what you're doing to that fracture. You usually shoot right handed - maybe it's time to practice with your left, then. Never know when you're going to need to switch off in the field."

He sent another target downrange for her, and she fired off another six rounds, frowning when the shots hit the target scattered.

"Here," Steve said, positioning himself behind her and closing his left hand over her grip. "Break your right grip, rotate ninety degrees, use your right thumb to decock the hammer." _And by the way, your hair smells incredible._ He gently placed his right hand on her hip, his hand automatically brushing over the bandage that had become familiar territory. "Shift your weight more to your left." _Or, you know, I could just stand here with my arms around you all day. That would work._

Jax went very still. _Or, you know, you could just stand there with your arms around me all day. That would work._

"Ahem," Danny cleared his throat and rolled his eyes. Jax blushed and Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

"So, yeah, that should help," he said, stepping back.

"Yep," Jax replied. Her next grouping was wide and to the left. "Again," she said.

Jax continued practicing until she realized that something Steve was doing had attracted Danny's attention. Holstering her weapon, she rubbed her shoulder and watched as Steve assembled a sniper rifle and settled into a prone position. Danny smiled and handed her a pair of binocs. She watched in amazement as he fired off three perfect rounds into the target at 1000 meters. She looked down at Steve and then back at the target.

"You're drooling, there, Jax," Danny whispered in her ear, patting her shoulder affectionately. "Told you he was good."

Steve shot Jax a shit-eating grin and did it again, just because he could.

Two hours and countless rounds later, Jax was sunburned and exhausted, but happy. "I could hold my own in a firefight left handed," she said, looking at her last grouping. "At the very least, I can put down adequate cover fire."

"I'm impressed," Steve smiled down at her. "I look forward to seeing what you can do when you're not injured and recovering from a concussion. Nice shooting."

Jax smiled up at Steve, short circuiting his brain. It took Danny smacking him on the back of his head to realize his phone was ringing.

"Yeah, McGarrett," he barked. "We'll be there in fifteen. Danny's with me; have someone call Chin and Kono to meet us there."

"Well, we almost had a Sunday off," Danny said, hanging on for dear life as Steve sped toward the scene.

"Grover, you're on speaker, what have you got?" Steve asked the SWAT leader.

"Steve, we've got a domestic dispute turned hostage situation. Guy decided to disregard a restraining order and pay a visit to his girlfriend. He went in armed, and he's barricaded himself in with her and her two roomates. He fired off several rounds at HPD so we've got the team here. Five-O's celebrity status is biting us in the ass on this one; he's asking for you by name. "

"Okay we are less than ten minutes out. We were at the range, off-duty. We've got our vests and sidearms; can you set us up with tac gear for comms?"

"Got you covered - we have what you need on the bus."

()()()()()()()()

As they arrived at the scene, Danny turned and looked Jax square in the eye. "You are to stand down, Jax," he said sternly.

"I understand, Danny," she replied.

"No arguments? No crazy ninja adrenaline junky ideas?"

"No, Danny. I'm not at the top of my game, and you've got an entire SWAT team here. I could cover your ass in a pinch but otherwise I'm more of a liability." Jax climbed out of the back of the Camaro, though, and took off at a brisk pace behind Steve and Danny.

"Then why are you on our six?" Steve said, as they approached Grover.

"Steve, Danny, glad to see you," Grover called out, looking curiously over Danny's shoulder at Jax.

Jax stepped out from behind Danny and extended her hand to Grover. "Jax Nolan, NYPD ESU. I'm injured and . . . well, technically suspended, long story, but I'm tac medic trained. Put me on standby if you need me."

"Nolan . . . you just pulled off the undercover op, bagged Markham? Heard about that. I'll ignore the suspension problem for now, your association with Five-O is good enough for me. Bus is that way," Grover said, gesturing to the SWAT medic vehicle, "check in with Officer Benson. Put on a vest."

Steve started to protest, to order Jax to stay well behind the perimeter, to stay safe – but as their eyes met, he saw the same spark of determination that had convinced him to let her go undercover. He shook his head and gestured toward the bus in defeat. She winked and grinned at him, gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek, and then took off for the EMS area.

"VEST," Danny called after her.

She flipped him off over her shoulder, not looking back.

 _Hell, yeah_ , Steve's brain cheered.

"Well," Grover said, watching Steve watch Jax, "this will be fun to discuss over beers later, now, let's talk about how we handle this little situation."

()()()()()()()()

By the time Chin and Kono arrived, Danny had to explain to them that Steve had decided a direct approach was best.

"The idiot decided that since the guy was asking for him by name, he would just walk in," Danny ranted. "Just waltz right in there like some schmuck. No, not waltz, swagger, like the arrogant over-confident son of a bitch that Steve is. So here we stand, out here, with a full SWAT team at our disposal, while he just walks right in to 'talk to the guy'. Unbelievable. Good news is, all the hostages are safely out, bad news is, no sign of Steve yet."

Chin shook his head in dismay at the look of complete awe on Kono's face. "He is not always the best role model for you, cuz," he said, but he couldn't suppress the chuckle. Only Steve.

"Where's Jax?" Kono asked. "She texted this morning, she was looking forward to going to the range."

"Oh, so you and Jax are bffs now?" Danny asked. "Thanks only to her tac medic training, Jax was willing to stand by with the medics for this little pleasure outing. Apparently in the few years since I left her in New York, she has completed pretty much every course offered. For all I know she outranks me now."

"Yeah, brah, it's nice not to be so outnumbered by testosterone. Jax is cool. She's tac medic? We should totally keep her," Kono replied.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're not alone in that opinion, although I'm not sure my blood pressure would be able to tolerate her and Steve in the same zip code."

Danny's musings were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot, quickly followed by the sounds of shattering glass as Steve fell through the front window of the cottage, dragging someone with him and landing hard on the wooden porch.

"Hold your fire!" Grover shouted at his team, as everyone tensed, not knowing who had fired the shot or if anyone had been hit. The last thing he needed was to catch Steve in unnecessary cross fire.

Danny, Chin, and Kono rushed to the porch along with several of Grover's men. While the SWAT members quickly cuffed and hauled the now disarmed and bleeding man off, Danny squatted next to Steve, who had yet to move to stand up.

"Steve, talk to me babe," Danny frantically checked for a pulse while Chin and Kono looked for blood or other signs of injury.

Steve groaned, much to their relief. "Shit, that hurts. Took one in the vest. Help me up."

Danny propped Steve up. "Easy there partner, take your time."

"Everyone okay? The girls got out okay?" Steve asked, panting to get his breath.

"Yeah, hostages are fine, guy's in SWAT custody," Chin answered.

"Jax?" Steve asked. Kono smiled in delight. _Chin owes me lunch._

Danny looked toward the medic vehicle and saw Jax and another medic moving quickly toward them.

"On her way, carrying a full med pack on her injured shoulder, I might add, because apparently my rookie is highly trained but lacks any sense of self-preservation."

"Shut up, Danny," Jax sniped good-naturedly. "Get away from my patient."

"I'm good," Steve ground out, still trying to get air fully back into his lungs. "Took a shot near my left shoulder, vest caught it. Got the wind knocked out of me coming through the window."

"Just barely," the other medic frowned. "An inch or so, that would have been a through and through."

Jax helped Steve who was now agitatedly pulling at the Velcro on his vest, anxious to get it off.

"Easy, sailor," she murmured, popping a cold pack and pressing it against Steve's shoulder. "That's gonna leave a mark. You've got some nice cuts, too, from coming through that window. Might warrant a trip to the ER."

"Nothing butterflies won't hold," Steve argued. "I'm fine."

Chin and Danny pulled Steve to his feet.

"Well, as fun as this has been, since it was SWAT's case, we don't get stuck with the paperwork. I'm going to go salvage what's left of this fine Sunday and pick Malia up at the hospital and take her to dinner. How about we stop by on the way home, just to be sure everyone is still in one piece," Chin said.

"Yeah, unless you need me to help get everyone out of here, Danny, I'm going to head out, too. I was on my way to meet up with some friends to surf when I got the call," Kono added.

"Fine, fine," Danny groused. "Leave me with the walking wounded adrenaline junkies here, since I have no social life, ever, and since I'm not taking care of my beautiful child this weekend, I'll take of these two. And yes, Chin, please bring Malia by so that she can make sure that no one has actually broken anything."

"You love us, Danny," Steve grinned.

"It's a good thing, you Neanderthal."

()()()()()()()()

"So, Jax, tac medic? You mentioned it, but we never really talked about it. " Danny asked, on the drive back to Steve's.

"Yeah," Jax answered from the back seat. "Remember, I was an EMT in high school? Picked up a few more classes while I was at the academy, then I had some down time after 9/11. Took another course, figured it would come in handy. Besides, I was going crazy, waiting to be cleared for active duty after . . . after the hospital and stuff." She paused, and Steve looked back at her in the rear view mirror. She had caught her bottom lip between her teeth, which he was starting to recognize as an indication of uncertainty and fear. _And also a reminder that you would very much like to kiss her_ , his brain chimed in.

"It was, um, one of the main reasons I got the SWAT job, over . . . I was better trained. The other . . . candidates –"

"Rat bastards?" Danny chimed in.

"Assholes?" Steve added.

Jax smiled. "Yeah, the other rat bastard assholes weren't tac medic trained. I was. It gave me an edge, it was something the department looked for."

"So," Danny said slowly, "when you volunteered for the undercover op?"

"I knew exactly what I was offering, Danny. I knew the risks, understood the procedures."

"So, you also know it was really stupid to go shooting today and then carry a heavy pack around a crime scene, right?" Danny chided.

Groaning, Jax closed her eyes. "Yes, okay? I'm paying for the folly of my ways, oh wise one."

()()()()()()()()

Danny deposited the pair at the McGarrett household, with stern orders to "shower and stay out of trouble, damn it", while he went to collect a few more changes of clothing and pick up some dinner.

By the time Jax emerged from the shower, Steve was in the kitchen trying to apply a butterfly bandage to one of the cuts on his arm.

"Seriously? You couldn't wait five minutes?" Jax rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away. "Sit. This been cleaned out properly?" It felt nice, tending to someone else for a change.

"Yes ma'am," Steve slid onto the stool and allowed her to take over. She bandaged another cut, higher and closer to his bicep. Her fingers itched to trace over his tattoo. _For starters._ She forced herself to focus on gently cleaning and applying steri-strips to two cuts on his forearm instead.

Her eyes were drawn to the rapidly darkening bruise high on his chest, where his vest had caught the bullet.

"Let me . . . ?" she asked.

Steve nodded, trying to control his response to her gentle fingers pressing against his collarbone and sweeping downward, following the bruising. "Just bruised," she murmured.

"I won't dislocate your thumb," he teased gently, trying to distract himself from how incredibly good her touch felt.

Jax blushed and ducked her head. "Yeah, really, still very sorry about that."

Steve wrapped his hand around hers, stilling it, but not moving it away. "Don't be."

She reached up her other hand and gently probed a cut on his eyebrow. "This would probably get a couple stitches in the ER; but I can close it with Dermabond and a butterfly if you want."

Steve nodded and reluctantly let go of her hand. She picked up another butterfly bandage and then stepped even closer to reach the cut. Steve didn't realize his hands had gently wrapped themselves around her tiny waist until he felt and heard her sharp intake of breath, and her hands faltered over the cut.

"Shit," he swore softly, pulling his hands back. _Who's the rat bastard asshole now?_ his brain demanded. "I'm so sorry, Jax, I didn't mean . . . "

"No," Jax broke in, "don't you dare. You don't need to apologize because that wasn't unwelcome." She blushed a little and looked down. _Okay, not helping, looking at the abs . . . not helping._ She blushed more and looked back up, meeting his eyes. "I was just a tiny bit startled, that's all. Please. If you apologize that means I'm some sort of victim here and I refuse . . . then they win. O'Neil and the rat bastard assholes win if I can't admit . . . if there can't be . . ." she stumbled over the words.

Steve smiled, thinking of Kono's bet with Chin. "Chemistry?" he asked quietly, gently brushing her hair away from her face.

"Not just me?" she asked.

"Not just chemistry," he answered, cradling her head in his large hands.

"Please, for the love of all of the east coast, tell me that I am interrupting something," Danny said as he came into the kitchen, arms full of ice packs, beer, and pizza boxes.

Steve groaned and kissed Jax on the forehead.

"Very brotherly," Danny commented dryly. "Good thing I'm here to supervise. Go put a shirt on, you caveman."

Danny herded Jax and Steve to the sofa, claiming it would be easier to keep an eye on them if they were in one spot. He threw up his hands in exasperation as they started to sit down.

"You idiots. Don't sit with your injured shoulders bumping in to each other. Switch places. Don't roll your eyes at me, Steven. There. Much better. Here's a fresh ice pack for you, Super SEAL, because the vest stops bullets but not bruises. And here's an ice pack for you, rookie, because – don't start – you aggravated that collarbone and you know it. Now, hold out your hands for Motrin because I know you'll both refuse anything stronger, at least until Malia gets here. And, here's your juice."

Jax and Steve stared at Danny.

"What?"

"You're such a mom, Danno," Jax said.

Steve snickered.

"Oh, shut up, the both of you. Yes, I have parenting skills – I am an excellent father – and you should both be thankful. You obviously can't take care of yourselves."

"You love us, and taking care of us makes you feel needed," Steve commented.

"Thank you, Dr. Phil. Shut up and eat your pizza, and I'll find a movie with plenty of explosions."

When Chin and Malia stopped by an hour into the movie, Danny met them at the door, smiling and gesturing for them to be quiet.

Malia poked her head into the living room and smiled at the sight of Jax sound asleep, her head on Steve's shoulder, his fingers tangled lightly in her curls. His eyes were closed but he opened them quickly at the sound of Chin's cell phone clicking a picture.

He tried for a stern frown, he really did. But when Kono opened the text from Chin, she laughed out loud at the goofy smile on Steve's face.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Danny had once again banished Steve to his own room with the maximum dosage of Motrin and stern orders to 'rest and keep ice on that bruising, damn it, and not the kind of rest where you work on your laptop all night, either, thank you'.

"Steve said you were more comfortable in the recliner last night," he commented to Jax.

"Yeah, it's a little easier on the cracked rib," she admitted.

"Well, then, princess, let's get you properly settled," Danny said. "I bet Steve just plunked you down in the chair and handed you a blanket, right?"

"There's a different way to go about sleeping?" she asked, amused.

"You're both prehistoric," Danny griped. "Yes, there's a better way. It involves using bed linens like a more civilized person." He disappeared into the guest room and brought out a clean twin size sheet and a pillow with a fresh pillowcase. Jax watched as he expertly tucked the sheet into the chair. He gestured dramatically toward the chair, and she rolled her eyes as she settled in.

"Oh," she said, as she relaxed into the softly worn cotton. "Okay, this is actually really nice, Danny. Thanks."

"Yep," Danny said, as he puttered around, fetching a light blanket for Jax and a similar set of bedding for the sofa.

"Danny," Jax protested, "you don't have to babysit me; I'll be fine."

"Were you fine last night?" he asked.

"Mostly?" she offered, uncertainly.

"Not according to the morning report." Danny waved off her protest before she could even start. "Besides, who says I'm here just for you? I can hear the Super SEAL better from in here than from the guest room."

Jax fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "Do you have to listen for him often?" she asked, quietly.

Danny sighed. "The big lug . . . when he gets hurt, yeah. If he can't sleep tonight and decides to take something stronger than Motrin . . . "

"He'll have nightmares," Jax finished. "I know. You're a good friend, Danny."

"I have good friends," Danny replied. "I'm sorry that was missing for you in New York, Jax." Danny hesitated, then continued. "Do you think you'll go back?"

"To New York?"

"Yeah, to New York, to SWAT . . ."

Jax was silent for a moment. "I don't know, Danny. I thought NYPD SWAT was my dream but now . . . I'm not sure. Maybe I could apply to dispatch."

"You could consider staying here," Danny suggested gently.

"Rachel would love that," Jax teased.

"Oh, I think it would be easy enough to solve that problem," Danny said.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I'll just invite her over for a barbeque; let her see you and Steve trying to pretend you're not completely smitten with each other."

"Danny," Jax protested, hiding her face in her pillow, "s'not funny. I don't . . . I'm not . . ." she broke off with a frustrated groan. "Just shut up."

"Mature, Nolan, very mature."

"I'm going to sleep now, Danny. Goodnight."

()()()()()()()()


	6. Chapter 6

.**Monday**

_She handed the other officer the water bottle. "Here . . . "_

_His eyes widened in panic at something happening above her . . . behind her. She tried to turn, but for some reason she couldn't move. There was a searing pain in her side, and she seemed to be lying in a puddle._

_The officer rushed to her side, pushing her shoulders down as she struggled to sit up._

_"Stay still, stay still," he said urgently, grabbing his radio and calling frantically for help. She didn't understand where the puddle came from. Maybe she'd spilled her water bottle. She frowned, she was supposed to stay hydrated._

_The officer grabbed her hand. "Hang on, help is coming," he said. That didn't make sense, she *was* the help, why weren't they getting up and helping the civilians? Her side was hurting more and more. Suddenly, she knew what she needed to do: she needed to call Danny and Billy. They would know what to do._

_"Call my training officer," she said, frowning at how weak her voice sounded. "Call Danny Williams. He's Jersey but he'll come help. And my brother, call my brother. William Nolan, FDNY. He's here, I saw his truck earlier. He's probably close by. They'll help us get these people out –"_

_She coughed weakly, alarmed when blood trickled out of her mouth. That wasn't a good sign. Danny and Billy would be worried, but they would still know what to do . . . she would get her radio herself and call them, too . . ._

"Danny?

Danny stirred on the sofa.

"Danny?"

"Yeah, babe?" he muttered, sleepily. "You okay?"

"Call Danny . . . and Billy . . . please . . ."

Danny sat bolt upright, fully awake. Enough moonlight was coming into the living room that he could see Jax. She was holding her side, struggling to get out of the chair, but she was hopelessly tangled in the blanket.

"We have to get these people . . . call Danny and Billy . . . "

Danny tried to gently untangle the blanket while calling Jax's name.

"Jax, babe, wake up, okay? You're having a bad dream."

Steve appeared at the top of the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt.

"Is she okay, Danno?" he asked quietly, as he came down.

"Danny?" Jax asked again. Danny couldn't tell if she was awake or asleep. He brushed the hair away from her face.

"Yeah, Jax, it's me, kiddo. You okay?" he asked.

Jax groaned. "Did we get all the people away before it fell?"

 _Okay, so not all the way awake, then_ , Danny thought. "Jax, you need to wake up, sweetie, you're having a nightmare, okay?"

Jax rubbed her eyes and looked up at Danny. "You're here," she whispered. "Am I still dreaming?"

"Depends, babe, where do you think you are?"

"We called you. You and Billy. We called and called . . . I don't think any of the calls went through. I think I passed out. Am I in the hospital? Is Billy here, too?"

Danny's heart broke. "Sweetheart, you're not in the hospital. That was quite a few years ago. Can you wake up a little bit more for me?"

"Danny? I think I got hurt."

"Yeah, you did. Do you remember what happened?"

"Something fell." Jax's eyes widened in horror. "Danny . . . did . . . there were people falling . . . please . . . " she started to panic.

"No, no sweetie. A piece of debris fell. Do you remember? It clipped you really good, through and through."

Steve longed to wrap his arms around Jax, but knew that at this point, it would just add to her confusion. He was forced to stand and watch helplessly.

Jax nodded and sighed, pressing her hands against her face. "Yeah, Danny, I remember," she said, choking back a sob.

"Oh, babe," Danny said, kneeling beside the recliner and pulling Jax forward so that her head rested on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. You know where you are now, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's. I know . . . it's okay. I just . . . sometimes I wake up and I forget for just a minute, you know?"

Danny rubbed her back gently. "I know, sweetie, I know. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Danny," Jax mumbled into his shoulder. "It's nice not to wake up alone."

Danny held her tighter, looking up at Steve, his blue eyes filled with remorse. She's been waking up to this nightmare for years now, facing her brother's death over and over . . . and since Danny left for Hawaii, completely alone.

Steve was looking off in a different direction, looking at . . . . _oh shit_ , Danny thought, remembering the crime scene. Looking at the exact spot where his father was murdered. Danny wondered how many times Steve woke up in this house . . . his childhood home . . . and forgot, just for a moment.

Danny closed his eyes. He knew his friends carried ghosts from their past but he'd never seen it with his own eyes like this before, the raw edges of their pain like an exposed nerve. He realized then, their attraction to each other went far beyond simple infatuation. They instinctively knew that the other could understand a part of them they couldn't even explain.

"Danny," Steve said quietly, nodding his head in the direction of Jax's back. Her t-shirt had ridden up, and there was blood on the bandage covering her stitches.

"Jax, sweetie," Danny said, "it looks like you've pulled some stitches."

"Why do I still have stitches?" Jax asked, still disoriented.

"You have a knife wound," Danny explained patiently. "Do you remember that? It's really recent. You still have stitches in. Steve's been changing the bandage for you, because you also hurt your shoulder and collar bone and it's really hard to reach."

"How the hell . . . " Jax started to say, and then stopped short. She burrowed her head into Danny's shoulder once more and Steve heard a muffled sob. "Shit," she said succinctly.

"Yeah," Danny chuckled, "I'm sorry babe, but things are truly shitty right now. It'll get better, I swear. Can Steve take a look at these stitches, hmm? They were supposed to come out tomorrow, so I'm pretty sure bleeding is a really bad thing. Also," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "don't tell my partner but my knee is killing me down here."

Jax made a sound that was half sob, half laugh, squeezed Danny tight, and then pushed gently on his shoulders. "Get off me, you perv," she said, quickly brushing her hands over her eyes.

"Oh, yeah, I see how it is. The SEAL comes in the room and I'm chopped liver," Danny groused, gently pulling Jax up and onto her feet.

Steve had fetched the kit and flipped on the coffee maker. 4 am was close enough to his usual wake-up time that he figured there'd be no more sleep, at least not for him.

Jax slipped quietly into the kitchen. "Okay," she said, her voice still raspy from sleep and the recent abuse to her throat, "where do you want me?"

Steve smacked his subconscious firmly before it could even begin to formulate a response to that particular question. He nodded toward the kitchen stool.

"Why don't you sit there, then you can lean forward onto the counter. This might take a little while," he said, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Jax. She wrapped her hands around the now-familiar shape of the mug and sighed.

"Thank you," she said, "for everything, not just the coffee. But also, especially for the coffee."

Steve smiled, and poured himself a cup. He gave himself a minute to enjoy how completely _right_ it felt, drinking coffee with Jax, in his kitchen, in practically the middle of the night. Her feet dangled inches above the floor. The FDNY tshirt had slid partially off her shoulder, revealing the bruising on her neck and collarbone, which was continuing its progression from purple to green and every color in between. She looked up at Steve through the wild mass of curls in complete chaos over one side of her face. Her eyes were still a little red-rimmed and dark circles stood out against her pale skin.

"I know, I'm a wreck," Jax shrugged. She'd never been one to put much thought into her appearance, but she could imagine that between the technicolor bruises and the crazy red hair she looked fairly comical.

"You're . . ." Steve hesitated. Probably not good timing for most of the words going through his head. He settled on the most urgent. "You're bleeding." He grabbed the kit and moved to stand next to her, gently pulling up the t-shirt and sliding the waistband of her gym shorts down a few inches. Sure enough, blood was continuing to seep through the bandage.

"Let's see what we've got here," he murmured, gently pulling the bandage away.

"Ow," Jax winced, trying to turn her head around to see what was going on. "What's the damage?"

"Looks like the laceration is almost completely healed; but at some point yesterday or last night, it looks like you wrenched a couple stitches. The bleeding is coming from the suture punctures, not from the cut itself. I don't think this was a very good suture job to begin with," Steve grumbled.

"Well, for goodness sakes, yank 'em out," Jax said. She reached into the kit and pulled out a pair of forceps and a pair of sharp point suture scissors and plunked them down on the counter in front of Steve.

He hesitated. "Are you sure? I mean, I can, but it's still a little infected and now it's going to be really sore. Would you rather wait and let Malia do it? She could give you a local."

Jax narrowed her eyes at him. "First of all, if I needed a local, you could give me a local. I know you're not supposed to be in possession but I also know that SEALs stock all kinds of non-protocol, don't even pretend you don't. And no, these stupid stitches hurt, and they itch, and I want them gone. Do you know how awful it's been, to have an ocean in spitting distance and not be able to swim? Enough already, sailor, get busy and get these things the hell out of me."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Steve replied, "wow, you're pretty grumpy at 4 am."

"The both of you make lousy patients," Danny commented, coming into the kitchen. He gave a low whistle at the sight of the stitches. "Babe, that does not look good."

Steve disinfected the forceps and scissors, and swabbed the stitched area with a generous supply of rubbing alcohol. He decided that some distraction was in order, so as he picked up the forceps to start on the first stitch, he asked Danny about Grace's recent field trip. Danny willingly launched into an account of his experience with Grace's class at the local aquarium.

"There," Steve said, as the final stitch pulled loose, not without what he knew had to be a painful amount of tugging. Jax had not complained, just winced a few times when one of the stitches didn't slide out easily. She sighed in relief.

"Thank you," she said, "that is so much better."

Steve smoothed on some antibiotic cream. "I'm afraid it's going to scar," he said, affixing a lighter weight bandage over the cut.

"I'll just add it to my collection," she said. "Not like I'm going to win any bikini contests with these beauties," she added, pulling the other side of her t-shirt up slightly. Steve traced his fingers over the scar on the opposite side of her lower back.

"Can I . . ." he asked, his hand hovering over where he remembered the matching scar on her stomach.

Jax shrugged and turned slightly. Steve shook his head. "I can't believe this missed vital organs," he said, tracing over that scar as well. "Was it glass?"

"Rebar," Danny answered grimly. "And the spleen isn't a vital organ, but she damn near bled out before they got her to surgery."

Jax pushed herself off the stool. "And that can be another story for another day," she said lightly. "Especially since I'm lucky enough not to remember much of it at all. Okay, boys, what's on the agenda for today?" she asked, pouring another round of coffee for everyone.

Danny groaned. "Well, it's a Monday, so I guess we should go to work like a good little task force. Unless our fearless leader deigns to give us the day off, in light of our service to the community yesterday?"

Before Steve could answer, his phone rang.

"Yes, Governor Jameson?" he answered, grinning at Danny and Jax. "Yes, ma'am, I'll be in the office by 8 am. Yes, ma'am, I'll see you then."

"No rest for the wicked," Danny sighed.

()()()()()()()()

The closed doors to Steve's office did little to muffle the sounds of the 'conversation', as Chin and Kono pretended to be busy at the smart table. "With all due respect, Governor, you did give me immunity and means," Steve was saying.

"Still, it's quite a stretch, using a civilian as bait," she said mildly, crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable in Steve's office.

"Officer Nolan is hardly a civilian. She's a highly trained, highly qualified law enforcement officer."

"Suspended, even," the governor drawled.

Steve shrugged. "On paid leave, pending an investigation into the attack on her by her fellow officers. She volunteered for the operation and was an invaluable asset. I'd say it's a good example of inter-agency cooperation."

Governor Jameson laughed. "Oh, Steve, I think you better leave the political maneuvering to me. You're really not good at it. That said, is there anything I can do to expedite Officer Nolan's situation? I'm sure she can't want this hanging over her."

"I'm not sure, Governor, but thank you for the offer. Can I get back to you?" Steve asked.

"Absolutely," Jameson replied. "The state of Hawaii owes Officer Nolan a thank-you for her service. Anything we can do, just put a call in to my office."

"Thank you, ma'am, we certainly will," Steve replied politely. He wondered sometimes what, exactly, this immunity and means was going to end up costing him.

As Governor Jameson placed her hand on the door to his office, a thought struck Steve. Something had been nagging at him, a piece of Jax's story missing, and he'd gotten so distracted with the case and the hostage situation that he hadn't worked it out. Apparently his subconscious had been busy, though, doing more than coming up with clever adjectives. Talking to Governor Jameson, it had clicked.

"Ma'am?" he said. "Actually, there is something I'd like to ask of you; related to Jax's case. The attack on her was brutal, and unprovoked. There were witnesses, and there is an abundance of photographic evidence and medical records. If the bastards – sorry, ma'am – had been civilians, they would have been thrown in jail immediately. These assholes – sorry,ma'am – have been walking around, 'pending investigation'. Jax says she came to Hawaii to see Danny, and rest up – "

Governor Jameson raised her eyebrow at that.

"Yes, ma'am, I realize we ended up letting her help us with a case . . . and then she was on scene . . . never mind, that's not my point. My point is, she came here, I think in part because she was afraid. What would have stopped those guys from going after her? Their careers are already ruined, or they damn well better be, what do they have to lose? I think, whether she actually realized it or not, she fled New York in fear of further injury, or worse."

Jameson nodded. "That makes sense, and I'm sure you're right. It's a completely unfair, but unfortunately, not uncommon situation. What can I do to help?"

"You can make Hawaii different from New York, Governor," Steve said firmly. "If something like this were to, God forbid, ever happen to Kono? Policy and protocol better put the sons of bitches – sorry, ma'am – behind bars immediately. For one thing, that will need to happen, to protect them from me, Danny, and most of all, Chin. But for another thing – it's not right. A badge is not a shield. Jax shrugged off this attack, almost as if she half-expected something like this to happen, sooner or later. And O'Neil and his buddies have been walking around the streets of New York ever since, on paid suspension, just like Jax. You hired me to clean things up, Governor, and with all due respect, that process needs to start with people at the top who don't settle for this sort of thing being 'unfair but unfortunately not uncommon'. "

Governor Jameson nodded. "I agree, Commander, and I'll look into what our state-wide protocol and procedures are. I'll make sure we are on the right side of this issue." She turned to leave, and then turned back. "Oh, and Steve – this must be quite a young woman, who's inspired you to break your usual restraint over your Navy vocabulary. I hope I get to meet her sometime."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve replied. "Thank you."

"Officer Kelly, Officer Kalakaua," Jameson nodded as she walked through the squad room.

Steve followed her out and was caught off guard when Kono launched herself at him and kissed him soundly on the cheek.

"Um, hey, Kono," he said uncertainly.

Chin clapped his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Steve, your father would be proud of the man you've become."

Steve looked at the two of them, still slightly confused.

"The walls of these offices only give the illusion of privacy, brah," Kono explained. "We heard your conversation with Governor Jameson."

"Ah," Steve rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "Okay. Speaking of illusions of privacy, wanna fill me in on what's happening in Danny's office? He and Jax look kinda pissed."

"They are on a conference call with NYPD. I've made out the words 'hearing', 'lawyer', and 'jackass'," Kono explained.

"Also some other words which I think must only mean something in Jersey," Chin added.

The three watched as Danny gestured wildly and Jax sat dejectedly on his sofa.

"She looked happier when she was sedated, intubated, and being almost killed," Chin noted.

Danny slammed his hand down on his desk phone and ran his hands through his hair as he stood up and came around from behind his desk. The rest of the team watched as he sat down next to Jax on the sofa. He put his arm around her as she covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, that doesn't look good," Kono said, a concerned frown crossing her face.

Danny ruffled Jax's hair and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then stood and came out to the squad room. Jax sat down at his desk and began typing on his computer.

"What's going on, Danny?" Steve asked.

"They're dragging her back to NYPD for a hearing," Danny explained.

"O'Neil's hearing?"

"For starters. And hers," Danny said tersely. "O'Neil is pressing civil charges against her. Aggravated assault. His NYPD hearing is Thursday. Her _arraignment_ ," Danny spat out the word, "is on Monday."

"He can't do that!" Steve exploded.

"How is that even possible?" Kono asked.

"O'Neil lawyered up; some asshole lawyer who is trying to make a case of 'police brutality'. Because technically, the worst of the many injuries that Jax inflicted on O'Neil occurred after he was in custody. The arresting officer was almost charged, but he threw Jax under the bus, claimed that she 'overpowered' him and assaulted O'Neil, who was defenseless to protect himself from Jax."

"Unbelievable," Chin muttered.

"Steve, I hate to ask," Danny started.

"You're going with her," Steve stated firmly. "I'll sign off for as many days as you need."

"I'll pick Gracie up from school, anything that's needed here," Kono added.

Chin nodded. "Malia and I will help, too. No way can we let her go back and face that alone."

"Thanks, guys," Danny said. "Sorta hoped you would say that; Jax is looking up flight information now. We'll have to leave Wednesday morning if possible. So, while I'm asking for favors . . . "

"Go," Steve said, anticipating Danny's next request. "Sort things out with Gracie and Rachel. Whatever you need. Oh, and by the way – your expenses will be covered by the state. Governor Jameson said whatever she could do to help: I'll put the call in to her office."

Kono grinned. "I'll go help Jax pick a good flight and a nice hotel," she said.

()()()()()()()()

After booking the flight and hotel room, a subdued Jax followed Kono out to the squad room.

"Where's Danny?" Jax asked.

"He went to sort things out with Rachel and Gracie," Steve replied. "Jax, I'm so sorry about all of this. Governor Jameson will help if she can. Her office can call, pull whatever strings possible. Just say the word."

"I guess I need a lawyer," Jax said. "I don't even know how . . . I've never needed a lawyer. I've never even had a speeding ticket."

"I'll call the Governor; it will be taken care of," Steve said. "Now, let's do something to get your mind off things. Chin have any new cases come in? No? Okay then. Let's go inventory the armory."

Jax looked confused, but shrugged and fell in behind Steve as he strode purposefully to the elevator.

Kono nodded sagely at Chin. "Steve's got game, brah," she said.

"What?"

"Seriously? What could be hotter than spending an afternoon surrounded by guns and ammo?"

Chin shook his head. Sometimes he worried about his cousin.

()()()()()()()()

Steve smiled as Jax stared in wonder at the armory. She looked like a kid on Christmas morning. He had a sudden thought . . .

"Make yourself at home, I'll be right back," he said. "I'll go get the inventory paperwork."

He returned a few minutes later with two clipboards and a cup of steaming coffee, which he handed to Jax. He couldn't resist the opportunity to test his theory . . . _oh yeah,_ his brain affirmed, _guns and coffee._

"Okay, so let's start counting," he said.

"You're serious?"

"Yep. Part of my duty as task force leader. I haven't inventoried in, well, ever. Come on, it will be good. You can't do a thing about New York at the moment. I called the governor while I waited for the coffee. She's on it; the ADA in New York City went to college with her. They're finding you someone good, getting them briefed on the case."

"Steve . . . I don't know what to say. Thank you," Jax said, relief flooding her voice.

Steve shrugged. "It's stupid that this even has to be arranged," he said, brushing his thumb over the still-fading bruise on her cheek. "There's no way this is going to hold up in court. O'Neil is just trying to intimidate you."

"He's doing a half-way decent job," Jax admitted, biting her lip uncertainly.

"Hey," Steve said, turning her face up to meet his eyes. "This will work out, I promise you."

 _Still very much would like to kiss her, wouldn't you, Commander?_ his brain reminded him.

"Okay," Jax nodded, then grinned. "Let's start counting."

By the end of the work day, they had managed to account for most of the weapons and ammunition, and had also discovered that many of the rifles needed a thorough cleaning.

"Let's set those aside," Steve suggested. "Note it on the inventory form; if we don't catch a case tomorrow, we can clean them. For now, let's call it a day, and see if Chin and Kono want to grab something from Kamekona's truck on the way home."

()()()()()()()()

The sun was just barely starting to set as Steve and Jax said their goodbyes to Chin, Kono, and Kamekona.

"Bring the pretty little haole back soon, brah," Kamekona waved.

"Is there anything you'd like to do this evening?" Steve asked as Jax clambered back into his truck. Thankfully, the task was much less painful for her, but still a challenge. She pulled her legs up on the seat under her.

"Laundry," she said. "I'm down to my last pair of cargo pants," she added, grinning, "and between loads, how about a couple of beers, in those chairs of yours down by the water?"

 _It's possible she's perfect,_ his brain offered.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," he grinned.

They had the first load of laundry started and beers in hand in time to enjoy the sun setting over the water. Steve couldn't resist touching Jax's curls as they shone in vibrant shades of red in the sunset. He was caught off guard when she flinched.

"Sorry," he murmured, "I didn't mean to . . . you've been through a lot, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm completely comfortable with you, Steve. Danny's talked about you and the team constantly; I feel like I've known you for a long, long time." She grabbed his hand and moved it to the back of her head. "I still have a goose egg," she explained, smiling.

Steve winced as he felt the still impressive lump on the back of her head. "No kidding," he said, rubbing it gently. Jax closed her eyes and hummed appreciatively.

 _That works too: noted,_ his brain chimed in.

"We should probably go start the dryer," Steve suggested reluctantly.

Jax nodded in mock seriousnes. "Even bad ass Navy SEALs and SWAT officers have to have clean underwear," she said, her eyes twinkling.

()()()()()()()()

"Stir fry?" Steve asked, his head inside the refrigerator, as Jax went to put her clothes into the dryer.

"Sounds great," she said, her voice muffled and . . . pained?

 _Laundry shouldn't hurt_ , thought Steve, poking his head around the door of the laundry room. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Jax practically upside down in the washer, her feet inches above the floor, as she tried to reach the bottom. Then his eyes fell on the strip of exposed skin between the bottom of her t-shirt and the top of her gym shorts, and he was reminded of the bruising on her ribs and the not-quite-healed laceration.

"Whoa, whoa," he said, grasping her hips gently and easing her back onto the floor. "Here, let me," he said, as he easily grabbed the rest of her laundry out and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, tossing the clothes into the dryer and starting it up.

They spent the next couple of hours in blissfully mundane domesticity; dinner, laundry, dishes. While coffee was brewing, Jax wandered around Steve's dining room and office, looking at the family pictures.

"I'm really sorry about your father," she said, as they took their coffee and sat on the lanai. "Danny told me about what happened, how he ended up with Five-O. I'm sorry that you had to meet under those circumstances."

Steve nodded, his coffee catching a bit in his throat. "Thank you. I've been so busy trying to track Hesse; somedays it doesn't seem real, you know? Like, I expect him to come walking through the door."

"Is it hard, living here?" Jax asked, then quickly added, "I'm sorry; I don't mean to pry."

"No, it's okay. I'm not used to talking about it. I mean, most people lose their dads to a heart attack, or a stroke . . . people don't know how to say 'hey, I'm sorry you heard your dad get murdered, while you were halfway around the world and helpless to stop it', you know? Sometimes, it's hard, yeah. There's a stain . . . " Steve stopped and took another sip of his coffee, swallowing hard. "But, there's also his car in the garage, and his guns in the safe . . . my sister's room is still set up, if I can ever convince her to come visit. And I couldn't imagine giving this up," he added, gesturing to the ocean view.

Jax nodded. "I can't imagine you giving this up, either. I shared an apartment with my brother as soon as I graduated from the academy. My dad was retired Navy, and he and mom were more than ready to take off, do some traveling. They actually sold their house, bought an Airstream, the whole nine yards. So I moved in with Billy. We had a few really good years. I couldn't stay . . . after. But, I think if it had been my childhood home, maybe."

"Where are your parents now?" Steve asked. He couldn't imagine them not dropping everything and rushing back to New York when Jax was injured.

"I believe they are in San Antonio," Jax said, suddenly concentrating on her coffee. "They, um, said that I'm too much a reminder of what they lost, when Billy . . . they came back for his memorial, but there were no remains . . . they said they had no closure, needed to get away from New York."

Steve stared at Jax, somewhat horrified. "Did they come for you in the hospital after 9/11?"

She shook her head. "No, I told them Danny was there."

"But Danny was admitted, too, he told me . . . he said he was only discharged a day before you."

"Yeah, well, so he was _there_ ," Jax said, "I didn't lie."

"You were alone," Steve said. "Oh, God, Jax, I'm so sorry you went through that alone."

"Just until Danny was okay," she replied, shrugging. But Steve remembered Danny's account of the days following, how he had been physically and emotionally barely okay himself. "He offered me a place to stay, but he and Rachel had just found out about the baby . . . I didn't want to intrude. I found a roommate, threw myself into classes and training while I healed. I was okay, really. What about you? Will your sister come back to live here, do you think?"

"Mary? Nah, I'm hoping she'll come to visit, but she was barely in her teens when our mom was killed, and dad sent us to the mainland. Hawaii got into my blood, but not so much into hers. She loved LA, and she enjoys California. There's some things about my father's case that worry me; I think maybe she's safer on the mainland until I can figure some things out."

"So you were alone, too," Jax pointed out.

"No, actually, I had Chin, who was my father's rookie; and his bad-ass cousin Kono who went undercover for us before she'd even graduated; and this completely arrogant, anal, procedure-obsessed idiot from New York that I had the uncommonly good sense to make my partner. Did he mention to you that he punched me our first day of working together?"

Jax laughed. "No, but he did mention that you got him shot."

"That is _so_ not how it happened . . . "


	7. Chapter 7

**Tuesday**

Steve shook most of the water off of himself as he headed back toward his house after his morning swim. He smelled coffee coming from the kitchen, and heard sounds of Jax puttering around, pulling out mugs. As far as he knew, Jax had managed a full night of sleep without any nightmares; whether it was from sheer exhaustion, familiarity with her surroundings, or finally having the last of the sedatives and painkillers out of her system, he didn't know; and he mostly didn't care, he just hoped it meant she was in a better headspace. Most of his swim had been spent trying to push the idea of Jax flying back to New York out of his head. He wasn't ready to deal with how he felt about her not being in Hawaii. He was still distracted with half-formed notions of calling the governor to see if she could somehow derail this whole proceeding as he walked into the kitchen, and almost tripped and fell flat on his face.

 _Holy shit_ , his brain offered, for lack of a more sophisticated expression. Danny's word-a-day calendar apparently had nothing to offer for this particular scenario.

Jax had popped out from behind the refrigerator door wearing one of his old Navy t-shirts, and evidently nothing else.

He realized that he was staring when Jax tilted her head curiously at him.

"Oh," she said, glancing down at the t-shirt. "Sorry – all of my laundry was still a little damp, all I could find were the running shorts that Kono had brought over, and I grabbed this t-shirt out of one of the drawers in the guest room. Is that okay?" Steve had such a strange look on his face, she wondered, in horror, if she had inadvertently grabbed a shirt of his father's, and bit her lower lip in uncertainty.

Steve's brain made several more suggestions, none of which were remotely appropriate.

"It's absolutely fine," he finally managed to croak out.

Jax was struggling to focus her attention on . . . well, anything but where her own decidedly inappropriate thoughts were focusing. _Ink . . . no, that's dangerous . . . biceps . . . equally hazardous . . . abs . . . down, girl . . . bruise . . . okay, that's safer._

She nodded at the massive bruise near his collarbone. "Are you sure you shouldn't go get that x-rayed?" she said. "You caught that close-range; it really could be fractured, you know." She had stepped closer and her fingers drifted up to gently press the swollen area. She reached up and smoothed her other hand over the steri-strips on his eyebrow. "This is closing up nicely, though." She examined several of the other cuts she had bandaged, frowning as she noticed several of the bandages were missing. Salt water tended to dissolve the most tenacious of adhesives.

"A few of these should be replaced," she said, her fingers still ghosting gently over the partially healed cuts on his arms.

 _You realize you're going to need to throw yourself through a window again when these heal, right?_ Steve's brain prompted.

As if of their own volition, Steve's hands had circled around Jax, and his fingers traced over the scar tissue forming around the knife laceration. The running shorts sat lower on her hips than her usual gym shorts, and he could feel the raised scar through the thin, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He felt, more than heard, Jax's sharp inhale.

"This hurting?" he asked.

Jax wasn't sure she could trust her voice, so she shook her head. His other hand went to her face, and he traced his thumb over her cheekbone and slid his hand to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her curls, and gently rubbing over the still swollen evidence of the vicious blow she had taken on the back of her head. "This getting better?" he asked.

Jax nodded, her hands sliding from the bruise on Steve's chest and his eyebrow to wrap around the back of his neck.

"What are we doing?" he whispered, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer.

"Updating our medical history?" she offered.

Steve smiled, completely relaxed and unguarded. It was a good look on him, Jax decided, one that she hadn't seen very often and definitely wanted to see more. She saw his eyes drop to her neck, and his fingers followed, gently tracing over the bruising. It had started to fade, which meant that the superficial bruising was fading first, leaving the finger marks darker and more distinct than ever. He shook his head a little ruefully, then bent and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to her bruised cheekbone.

"I knew it," Danny complained loudly, walking into the kitchen unannounced as usual. "I knew you'd go from patching each other up to playing doctor." He glanced at Jax's attire and continued his rant. "So, I can't get him to keep his shirt on, but you'll gladly pick it up and wear it? And please tell me there is something under there."

Jax turned to face Danny, and found herself still encircled in Steve's arms. She leaned back against him slightly, partly to provoke Danny but mostly because it just felt so damn right.

"Chill, Danny," Jax said lifting up the hem of the t-shirt to demonstrate the shorts underneath.

"Chill, Danny? Really? We're back to that?" Danny grumbled good naturedly. "Chill, Danny was where we started a week ago. Since then, you've stopped breathing," he said, pointing to Jax, "and you've taken a bullet to the vest and crashed through a window," he continued, pointing to Steve. "And to add insult to injury I have to walk in to find both of you half naked in the kitchen."

"You could have knocked," Steve pointed out.

"You could walk back out again," Jax suggested helpfully.

"Oh, ho, I could, could I? That'll be the day. Actually, I am here to inform you, because Steven has not answered his phone or responded to text messages, because clearly he has been _distracted_ , that we have a case. Of sorts," Danny said, continuing with the wild hand gestures.

"Of sorts?" Steve asked, dropping another kiss to the top of Jax's head.

Danny narrowed his eyes at him.

"What?" Steve protested. "I've seen you do that a dozen times."

"I'm ignoring that for now. We have a security detail for a visiting dignitary. Orders direct from the governor, and she says, and I quote 'and before Steve tries to weasel his way out of this, remind him that Jax has a top-notch lawyer waiting for her in New York'. So, put on your grown up pants, Commander Cargo, and let's get moving. We're to report to the governor's mansion at 10:30 am."

Steve reluctantly let go of Jax and headed up the stairs. "Danny, make some coffee, will you, while Jax and I get sorted?"

As Jax pulled her laundry out of the dryer, she heard Danny mumbling to himself as he set up the coffee machine. She paused for a moment, the sun coming through the kitchen window warming her skin, the comforting sounds of Danny's grumbling and Steve's footfalls over her head washing over her. She was glad neither of them were witness to the sudden tears that sprung to her eyes, when she realized that in less than twenty four hours she had to leave this behind to head back to New York.

()()()()()()()()

Jax watched wistfully as the rest of the team headed out to the governor's mansion without her. She had planned to go continue working in the armory, but decided that while the team was otherwise occupied, it would be the perfect time to take on a different task.

She found the elevator and traced her steps back to the basement, searching for Max's offices.

"Hello, Officer Nolan," Max called out as she walked past his door. "Can I help you?"

Jax backtracked and went into his office. "Good morning, Max, working on anything interesting?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am trying to determine if there are missing bone fragments from this," he said, holding up a large, battered femur, "that could possibly be found in this." With that, he held up a very poorly preserved piece of . . . flesh; the origin of which Jax could not even hazard a guess.

"Wait," she said, "a human bone as a murder weapon?"

"Ah, you are indeed, as Detective Williams figuratively described, 'sharp as a tack'. Although, I am uncertain as to the apparent popularity of that phrase. There are many things much sharper. Scalpels, for example."

"True," Jax nodded. "Hey Max, I have a favor to ask."

"Certainly. I have to boil down this soft tissue to see if there are any bone fragments left. That will take quite some time."

"Um, delightful . . . yeah, so I was wondering, how do I get to Captain Grover, at HPD SWAT?"

()()()()()()()()

"Captain Grover, thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Jax said, taking the offered seat in Grover's office.

"Well, I must say, I was surprised when your preliminary online application came through my email at 2 am," he said, rubbing his eyes.

Jax cringed. "Sorry, sir."

"Eh, that's what I get for not turning my notifications off on my cell phone. Not to worry. I was intrigued, though. Chin filled me in on the Markham case. That was some risky undercover work for someone recovering from recent injuries."

"It all worked out, sir, and Markham is off the streets. It was a good case."

"Things went a little sideways, though. You ended up admitted under very real circumstances. How are you recovering from that?"

"Just fine, sir, no lasting effects whatsoever that I can tell. It was really just a very minor setback; just some breathing trouble from something that Markham injected. Dr. Waincroft had it under control very quickly."

Grover nodded. "Umm hmm. And how are you recovering from the injuries you sustained just before this, from being violently assaulted in New York? Kono filled me in on that. We all had time to chat while Steve was reenacting his latest action adventure in that hostage case."

"I'm recovering just fine, sir," Jax squirmed a bit. "Fractures are almost healed, concussion is all but gone, and stitches are out."

"You sleeping?" Grover got straight to the point.

"Yes, sir," Jax said, relieved beyond measure that if they were just talking about last night, she wasn't technically lying.

"Umm hmm. Let's try this again, Officer Nolan. I've already talked to your former sergeant and your commanding officer on SWAT. So, I know about 9/11, I know about you getting the SWAT position over and above three other applicants, and I know how they expressed their displeasure with that decision. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that what I value most on my team is honesty. And let's try again: Are you sleeping okay? Are you fit for duty?"

Jax swallowed hard. "I'm fit for duty, sir. I sometimes have trouble with close explosions, but I've served through a few since 9/11 and I managed. I realize that it's in the best interest and safety of my team to notify them of any situation that could be an issue for me, and no one has had a problem backing me up. I'm sleeping okay for the most part. If I get injured and have to take narcotic level painkillers, that can be a problem for me."

Grover nodded. "Okay, now we're getting somewhere, Officer Nolan. How much of a setback was this recent attack?"

"To be honest, sir, the recent assault was a walk in the park compared to 9/11. These minor injuries are nothing compared to what I witnessed and helped with that day," Jax said emphatically.

"Umm hmm," Grover nodded again, scrutinizing Jax. "First of all, I've read the report. Seventeen stitches, a severe concussion, fractured collarbone, dislocated shoulder, and soft tissue damage – those are not minor injuries. Secondly, it was a vicious, personal attack. It's not like a perp shoved you down a flight of stairs. Now, if you want me to even consider granting you an interview, tell me, how much of a setback was this recent attack?"

"It was a setback, sir, but nothing that I can't overcome. Personal or not, it was still nothing compared to 9/11, and I came back from that; earned a place on NYPD SWAT."

"Okay," Grover said, "I can accept that at face value for now. You got people you talk to, keep this stuff outta your head?"

Jax looked at him uncertainly.

"Oh, you're one of those, are you? Just like Steve. Think you can handle everything on your own. Well, maybe you've had no choice so far, and maybe you've managed. I've served long enough, seen enough shit, to tell you that's not gonna last forever. So, we consider this application to HPD SWAT, you gotta tell me, you have people you talk to. Doesn't have to be me, or anyone on SWAT, or a professional, but it's gotta be there."

Jax nodded slowly. "I could talk to Danny."

"You talk to Danny back at NYPD?"

"Not so much. He had just lost his partner, just found out about Gracie. But I could have; and I could now."

"Umm hmm," Grover nodded. "Who else? 'Cause you know, Danny, he has a little bit of a complicated life; you're going to protect that, I can see. You're coming to a whole new island, and you think just because this isn't NYPD, you're not gonna have tough cases, you're fooling yourself. Who else is gonna be there after a tough case, if Danny's gone home to be with his little girl, and you're not interrupting his time?"

Willing herself not to blush, Jax answered. "Well, I could talk to Steve. We, um, talked about his dad and my brother the other night. So, yeah."

Grover grinned. "Umm hmm. Okay, so I'm gonna ask: why HPD SWAT? Why not apply to Five-O? The good Lord in heaven knows they could use their own tac medic. Just between Kono and Steve they should keep a room reserved at the ER, the crazy fools. So why not ask for Five-O? Danny would put in a good word for you; your references from NYPD are impeccable."

Jax shifted a bit in her seat. "Well, I worked hard to earn a place on SWAT in NYPD. I want to finish what I started."

"That the only reason?" Grover leaned forward over his desk and peered intently at Jax.

 _Honesty is what I value most on my team_ , Jax thought. _Okay, this is a test. Put it all out on the table, Jax._

"Well, sir, to be perfectly honest – I'm anticipating there could be a conflict of interest in my joining Five-O."

Grover grinned. "A conflict of interest, you say?"

"Yes, sir. I'm not sure, but it's possible." Jax decided to throw caution to the wind and just answer in brutal honestly. "I'd prefer that this be off the record, but I'm hoping that Commander McGarrett would consider it a conflict of interest, of a personal nature, to hire me."

Grover laughed; a rich, full, hearty laugh that warmed Jax's heart and made her feel safe and welcome.

"Okay, then Officer Nolan, I think you and I could get along just fine. I noticed Steve's conflicted interest the day of the hostage situation. That boy might be all business when it comes to busting down doors, but he wears his heart on his sleeve otherwise. Tell you what: you go on back to NYPD, clear up this situation, and then come back here for a formal interview, how's that sound? I've spoken with enough of your superiors to know that you have the backing of the NYPD. You're not going to have anything but commendations on your record from New York."

Grover stood up and extended his hand to Jax in a handshake; and then, much to her surprise, he enveloped her in a gentle bear hug. "For what it's worth, kid, you've got a lot of people pulling for you, both back in New York and here. Of course, I can't make the final decision by myself; you'll have to go through the formal interview process. But I suggest you go ahead and wrap up your details while you're in New York; save yourself a trip later."

()()()()()()()()

The team returned from their security detail in the late afternoon. Kono had her dress shoes off before she got off the elevator, and trailed barefoot through the squad room and into her office, where she pulled out her usual jeans, elegant tank, and boots from her desk and disappeared into the locker room to change. Steve did the same, emerging from the locker room in his usual cargoes and t-shirt, just slightly rumpled from being stored in his file cabinet.

"Where's Jax?" Danny asked, as the team tidied up and signed off on the day's work.

"Armory," Kono said. "She sent me a text message at lunch, said she was over halfway done with cleaning and running out of gun oil, so I told her where we keep extra."

"I'll go get her," Steve offered quickly.

"I'm sure you will, boss," Kono said. "What?" she added, all innocence, as Chin shot a raised eyebrow in her direction.

()()()()()()()()

Steve found Jax sitting cross-legged on the large table in the middle of the armory, surrounded by rifles, the scent of gun oil hanging in the air. Her hair was hanging over her eyes as she focused intently on a Sig Sauer P226, and she didn't hear Steve come in. She had a smudge of oil on her cheek, and her hands were filthy.

 _Positively adorable_ , Steve's brain supplied.

Jax racked the slide and gently blew a piece of lint off the grip.

Steve's brain momentarily lost the ability of coherent thought and settled in the vicinity of _nnnggghhh._

"What was that?" Jax asked, looking up. "Hey, how was security detail?"

"It was boring, which is a good thing. Wow, you made a lot of progress today." Steve picked up a freshly cleaned sidearm and admired the quality of the work.

"Yeah, I'm just about finished," Jax said, polishing the stock of a Heckler and Koch P30. "Everyone ready to head out?"

"Yeah, we're just wrapping up. I'll help you finish."

In less than an hour, Jax was reluctantly putting the last gun back on the rack. She sighed as Steve turned off the lights and locked the door.

He tousled her hair affectionately. "I'll make you your own key, if that would make you feel better."

()()()()()()()()

Danny took Gracie out for dinner and finalized the change in plans with Rachel.

"Thanks, Rachel, for working this out with me," he said, as he kissed Gracie goodnight on her way back into her mother's home.

Rachel shrugged. "You're welcome, Daniel. I'm truly sorry for everything Jacqueline has been through. I hope you're able to get things settled very quickly. Do you think she'll stay in New York?"

"Is that a loaded question, Rachel? Is this going to be a problem?" Danny asked.

"No, Danny, I assure you, it's not. I think we're well past that now, don't you? I genuinely want her to be able to move on with her life. She's lost her brother, and now this . . . and her parents just running off across the country . . . " Rachel shook her head sadly. "If you're the closest thing she has to family, I'm quite sorry that she was left alone. And if being here will make her happy, then I wish her only the best."

Danny kissed Rachel on the cheek. "Thank you, Rachel. I hope she'll decide to relocate to Hawaii. But, she did just get that job with SWAT . . . I'm not sure what she'll do."

()()()()()()()()

Danny had decided to spend the night at Steve's, to make getting to the airport the next morning easier. He decided to be nice and knock this time, and was mildly disappointed when Jax opened the door, with Steve nowhere in sight.

"Hey, sweetie, getting packed and ready for tomorrow?" Danny asked.

"Yeah," she answered, eyes downcast.

Danny gently turned her face up to meet his eyes. "Everything is going to be fine, Jax," he said firmly. "Where's my idiot partner?"

Jax gestured toward the water.

"Ah," Danny said, "my guess is that he's not at all happy about you leaving, and doesn't know how to use his words. Give me a little head start then bring out a few Longboards, how's that sound?"

()()()()()()()()

Danny sat down in the chair next to Steve's.

"You should tell her, you know," he said.

"Tell who what, Danny?" Steve asked.

"Tell Jax. That you want her to come back. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I have absolutely no right to ask anything of her, Danny. But yeah, I wish she would come back here after the hearings are over. There's no one there watching her back, Danny."

"And that's the only reason you think she should be here? Come on, Steve, you've already admitted that you have feelings for her. I'd say it's obvious that it's mutual, if her standing in your kitchen wearing your t-shirt was any indication. You've got to grab life by the horns, my friend. Tell the girl how you feel."

"Danny, you sound like that crab from that mermaid movie Gracie makes us watch."

"The crab is smart, Steve. Probably smarter than both of us."

()()()()()()()()

Danny made a not-at-all subtle show of turning in to bed early, leaving Steve and Jax in the kitchen putting away the dishes. Jax pointed out several steri-strips on that needed to be replaced.

"Those cuts are not going to close if you don't quit screwing up the steri-strips," she chided. She crossed the kitchen to the cabinet where Steve kept his extensive first-aid kit, and opened the door. Steve heard her hiss in pain as she thoughtlessly reached up for the kit with her still healing shoulder. It was well out of her reach on a top shelf.

He came and stood behind her; arguably a little closer than was strictly necessary. _Just helping her reach something, nothing to see, move along._ He grabbed the kit and put it on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks," Jax muttered, rummaging in the kit for the necessary supplies. "Sit," she added.

Steve sat on the kitchen stool, wincing just a bit as Jax pulled off the more stubborn of the bandages. He watched her hands, strong and capable, as she replaced the bandages on the worst of the cuts. Stepping closer, she examined the cut over his eyebrow.

"The Dermabond took care of this nicely," she murmured. "I can just put two small strips back on." She gently pressed the bandages in place. "There, all set," she said. She moved to step back to examine her work, but Steve's hands were gently settled on her hips.

He reached up and brushed the curls out of her face.

"I don't want you to stay," he said.

"Oh," she replied, trying not to let the sting of disappointment show in her eyes.

"In New York," he added quickly. "I don't want you to stay in New York. When the hearings are over, I want you to come back with Danny."

"Here? To Hawaii?" she asked.

"Here. To Hawaii, to the team, to Danny," Steve hesitated. "To me. I want you to come back, to me. I know I don't have the right to ask that of you, but there it is. Please come back with Danny."

"Okay," Jax said simply.

"I mean, I know you worked so hard to earn that spot on NYPD SWAT, and I know there's a lot of prestige involved, but there are good opportunities here, too."

"I know," Jax said. "Okay."

"And you don't have any family in New York, and I know technically we aren't family, but these are good people, Jax, and it's ohana, it's a special kind of family. And Kono and Chin, they love you already."

"Okay," Jax said, her eyes starting to twinkle.

"Wait," Steve said, finally catching on. "Okay?"

"Yeah, I'll come back, with Danny. Okay."

"You'll – okay." With Steve still seated on the kitchen stool, the height difference between them was minimized, and it took just a simple tug and Jax was firmly wrapped in his arms.

"Okay," he whispered, his hands tangling in her hair and gently pulling her head onto his shoulder.

()()()()()()()()

When Danny got up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, he smiled broadly at the sight of Steve and Jax on the sofa; his arms around her and her head on his shoulder, sound asleep.

"The crab knows, buddy," he whispered as he went quietly back to the guest room.

()()()()()()()()

Steve drove them to the airport early the next morning. The sun was barely over the horizon. Jax twisted her hands in her lap nervously, until Steve reached over and wrapped both of her hands in one of his.

"It's going to be fine," he said. "The governor has already said that the lawyer has looked into the case. There's nothing of substance; everyone recognizes it for the intimidation tactic it is. It's not going anywhere, and you'll be headed back here before you know it."

When they parted ways at the boarding gate, Steve kissed Jax gently on the cheek, and then watched until she and Danny were out of sight.


	8. Chapter 8

"It's a lousy way to do it, but I can't say I'm sad to have time to really catch up with you, Jax," Danny said, as they settled in for the long flight.

"Yeah, the whole relaxing in Hawaii thing didn't work out so well," Jax replied. "I'm really sorry that you had to drop everything and come back to New York with me, but thanks, Danny. Was Rachel mad?"

"Nah, she's past all of that. Maybe Rachel and I are better to each other apart than together. Anyway, she's sincerely concerned for you. Even suggested you come back to Hawaii when this is over."

Jax nodded. "The thought's crossed my mind." She didn't know if Grover would mention to the guys that she had applied for HPD SWAT, but decided not to jinx it by bringing it up herself.

"Yeah? I know we all wish you would, Jax. It may be a pineapple infested hell-hole, but it's our little pineapple infested hell-hole, you know? Lots of people there who would be like family to you. Maybe you could even convince your parents to come for a visit some time."

"I could be the cool Aunt Jax," she said, smiling. "Take Gracie to the movies, hang out on the beach, talk about boys . . . "

"Gracie will not be talking about boys for at least ten years," Danny stated emphatically, "but you definitely could be the cool aunt. Aunt Jax." He paused. "Funny, that works nicely with Uncle Steve. How about that?"

"Danny," Jax protested. "Stop."

Danny laughed and wrapped his arm through Jax's. "Okay, but only because you still look like shit and I think you should try to take a nap." He tugged gently until her head fell against his shoulder, reaching up his other hand to comb his fingers gently through her hair. "Why don't you sleep for a bit, yeah? Maybe avoid the worst of the jet lag if you get some sleep now. When you wake up, I want you to catch me up on everything I missed while you were become some bad-ass SWAT officer."

()()()()()()()()

"McGarrett," Steve answered his cell. "Okay, on our way."

He strode out of his office, clipping his badge to his belt. "Chin, Kono, we've got a shooter in Ahupuaʻa ʻO Kahana State Park. SWAT wants us to go in with them, since we know the area."

"What's the target?" Chin asked, grabbing his badge and sidearm.

"There's nothing out there but coconut groves and hiking trails," added Kono, pulling vests out of the storage cabinet, and handing one to Steve and Chin.

"Not sure," Steve answered, "one of the families that lives in the park called it in. Random shots, sounded like a handgun. So we're not expecting a poacher, but we have no idea. Grover is going to meet up with us at the base of the trail."

Within an hour, they had loaded up their equipment and joined Grover and a small team at the base of the trail.

"We go in small and quiet," Steve suggested. "It's a lot of territory to cover, but it's pointless to send in people who don't know the area. Chin, take Kono, follow the west trail, but stay in cover. The shots seem to be coming from the grove about mid-way up the trail. I'll follow the north trail, and we'll intersect in about four miles. Grover – I'm a man down. Care for a hike?"

"Always ready to learn something about my new island home," Grover responded. "Lead the way."

Steve grinned. "Excellent," he said, as he and Grover began to quietly make their way through the dense cover. "I'm glad I sent Danny to New York. He would have bitched and moaned all day."

"This is fun for you, isn't it?" Grover asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I hadn't thought of it that way, but I grew up hiking these trails as a kid."

"We're not hiking, Steve, we're sneaking through the rainforest. All that's missing is camo face paint, and you're back in your glory days as a SEAL, tracking a target. Don't think you have me fooled."

"Are you a SWAT captain, or a shrink?" Steve griped.

"Don't tell me you haven't been better since we started hanging out, Steve. Talking is good for the soul. You know you've been better off, getting some of that dark and crazy out of your head and out into the daylight."

"Okay, yeah, I admit, you were right. Our talks have helped; there, happy?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am very happy to know that our talks have helped. Got a lot of us carrying around a lot of shit, it's not healthy trying to carry it alone. Like I explained to the lovely Officer Nolan yesterday, gotta have someone to talk to."

Steve stopped and turned to face Grover. "You spent time with Jax yesterday?" he asked, curious.

"Oh, we call her Jax, do we?" Grover grinned. "Yeah, she stopped in to talk about her application."

"Application?"

"She hadn't told you," Grover said. "I hope I'm not spoiling a surprise, then. She's applied to HPD SWAT. There's to be a formal interview when she gets clear of all this stuff in New York. Oh, and there's that goofy face Danny mentioned. You're pleased, I take it?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I can't believe she didn't tell me last night when I asked her to consider coming back that she'd already talked to you." He paused. "SWAT, hunh?" Grover saw disappointment flicker through his eyes.

"You're wondering why SWAT and not Five-O?" Grover guessed.

They continued to make their way quietly through the brush as Steve considered Grover's question.

"I guess I was hoping . . . Kono had pointed out that Five-O could use a medic. I guess I thought, maybe, you know, with having worked with Danny . . . "

"You are an idiot, you realize that, right?" Grover asked. "She doesn't want to work for you, Steve."

"She doesn't?" Steve couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Oh, please don't tell me this is reflective of Naval Intelligence," Grover groused. "No, you fool, she doesn't want to work for you. She's hoping you would consider hiring her as your subordinate a huge conflict of interest."

"Oh," Steve said, slowly catching on. "A conflict of interest?"

"Yes, you jackass, a conflict of interest 'of a personal nature'".

"Oh," Steve said, brightening considerably. "That kind of conflict of interest."

"Well?" Grover demanded.

"Oh, hell yeah," Steve affirmed.

Grover chuckled, then his head snapped up as they heard a gunshot; they were close.

"Chin," Steve spoke quietly into his radio. "Did you get that? I'd say Grover and I are only about a meter off. How about you? Okay, head towards it. Stay in cover."

()()()()()()()()

"Good job today, everyone," Grover said, as they bundled the injured hiker into the ambulance and shed their gear.

"So, do we give him a citation for carrying into a National Park?" Chin asked jokingly. The hiker had used his handgun as his only means of communication when his cell phone had been destroyed in the small rock slide that also shattered his ankle.

Steve shook his head. "Nah, are you kidding? Guy's a Marine. You don't expect a Marine not to carry. And it's a good thing he did; that's the only way we were able to track his location. Everyone okay?" he added, frowning at a smudge of blood on Kono's cheek.

"I'm fine, boss – caught a low hanging branch," she shrugged. "Nothing an afternoon off surfing wouldn't fix?" she added hopefully, eyes twinkling.

Steve paused for a moment. "What the hell, yeah, take the rest of the day."

"You are in an uncommonly generous mood," Chin observed.

"He's had some very good news," Grover smirked. "Seems a certain NYPD officer plans to relocate to Hawaii."

"No way!" Kono exclaimed. "Jax is going to come back with Danny? Nice."

Chin smiled and nodded, clapping Steve on the shoulder. "We'll all be glad to have her as part of the ohana, Steve."

"Oh, look," Kono said, giggling and pointing. "Danny's right, there's a smitten face. So much happier than the aneurysm face."

"Get out of here, the both of you, before I take away your day off," Steve groused.

Kono was in her car pulling away almost before the words were out of his mouth.

"Did she just . . . " Grover trailed off.

"Oh, yeah, she wears a bikini under her clothes and carries the surfboard everywhere," Chin affirmed. "Sometimes if you blink you completely miss it. She'll be on a wave in the time it takes us to put our cars in reverse."

"You people are not entirely balanced," Grover observed, as he packed up his gear and pulled out. "But I like working with you, just the same."

"If you're serious about an afternoon off, I'm heading over to the hospital to pick up Malia, maybe go for a ride," Chin said. "You headed back to the office, though? I'll come back and help with paperwork."

Steve shook his head. "No, SWAT got the call, we were just called in for support. Paperwork's on Grover this time. I, my friend, am going home to do some cleaning and empty out some drawers."

"Kinda making an assumption there, Steve?" Chin asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, think about it. Danny's place is crap, none of us are going to let Jax stay there. Kono's place isn't even big enough for her surfboards. I doubt you and Malia are interested in a roommate at the moment – thank you, see I knew that would be the case. So that leaves my house. Just until she gets settled."

Chin looked skeptical.

"The _guest room_ , Chin. Come on, give me some credit."

Chin laughed. "Okay, Steve, I'll play along for now. And Steve . . . " he hesitated, then continued. "For what it's worth? Your dad would have loved that girl. Try not to screw it up, okay?"

()()()()()()()()

Jax looked at her phone in surprise when a text message came through.

_Landed safely?_

She smiled and typed.

_Yeah, just now. In the taxi. How'd you get this number?_

_Please. Naval Intelligence. Special Task Force._

_Kono?_

_Yeah, Kono._

_Catch a case today?_

_Hiker needed rescue._

_Injuries?_

_Shattered ankle._

_Ouch. Team ok?_

_Yes. Spent the day with Grover._

Jax paused, unsure of how to respond to that. Before she could decide, Steve sent another message through.

_He told me. Hope you're not mad._

_Didn't want to jinx it. What do you think?_

_I think you need to hurry home to Hawaii._

"What has you texting like a teenager and grinning like an idiot?" Danny asked, slipping into the taxi next to Jax. "Oh, dear Lord above, you're texting Steve. It's going to be like this, isn't it?"

"Apparently, Danny, it is going to be exactly like this."

Steve was anxiously waiting for a reply. Had he crossed a line? He typed another line of text.

_You there? Sorry. Am I rushing you?_

_No. Danny's being Danny._

Steve decided that a picture was worth a thousand words, and on a whim, snapped a photo of the guest room dresser, drawers open and empty, save for a handful of his old Annapolis t-shirts.

"Now what?" Danny asked as Jax sighed happily.

"Now, we get this mess the hell behind me," Jax said firmly. "Bring it on."

Thursday

Danny held Jax's hand firmly as they walked up the steps to the Midtown North precinct building. The old gray stone looked cold and imposing, but Jax seemed in her element.

They'd stopped by her apartment the night before and picked up her uniform. He was struck by the stark nature of her surroundings. It was obvious that she'd not made a home for herself in New York. The tiny walk-up was largely devoid of personal items and Jax had moved mechanically through the small space, quickly gathering her dress blues and a few more changes of clothes. Danny had shaken his head sadly. Had he known things had been this bad, he would have called in some favors with some buddies.

"This was your station?" he asked, as the climbed the stairs.

"Most recently, yeah," she answered. "I was in Midtown South for a long time; that was where the job offer came in right after 9/11, for the multi-task position. I moved to Midtown North when I got into ESU, but it operates a little differently than regular NYPD. I ran with a truck, more so than with a station. I'd only made ESU about a year ago, though. It's a tough unit to get in to."

"So is SWAT," Danny commented. "You did well for yourself, kid. I'm proud of you. Grace would have been, too."

They found a receptionist at the front desk who identified the floor and location where the hearing was scheduled to take place.

"Here goes nothing," Jax muttered, as they exited the elevator.

()()()()()()()()

"Got a minute, Steve?" Grover asked, coming into the squad room.

"Absolutely, man, what do you need?" Steve asked, gesturing into his office.

"I had a couple of things to sign off from yesterday, for starters," he said, pulling out a file. "Thought we'd discuss Officer Nolan's application while I'm here."

"Sure, what do I need to sign?" Steve took the papers from Grover and sat down at his desk, indicating for Grover to make himself comfortable in a chair.

Papers signed and back in Grover's hand, Steve leaned back in his chair. "What about Officer Nolan, Grover?"

"Well, Steve, I spent time on the phone this morning with the sergeant who recruited Jax for SWAT. His primary concern, as you could imagine, is her PTSD. It's not officially documented in her file but given that she served, and was injured, at Ground Zero, I don't think anyone assumes otherwise. You've spent some time with her, while she was undercover, and recovering afterward. I want your take."

Steve hesitated. "I'm not a mental health professional, Lou. I'm not sure how much weight my opinion and observation should carry."

"This is off the record, Steve. I'm asking your opinion as a mutual friend. I just want to know what I'm working with. The interview is a formality as far as I'm concerned, but I owe it to my entire team to have an honest assessment of the situation."

"I haven't worked with her in the field, obviously. There's some pretty hard core stuff going on in her head; similar to what I've seen with combat vets. It was pretty rough when she woke up in my house the first night; unfamiliar location. She had a major flashback in the hospital; and again coming off the painkillers her first night back home. All three times, though, she had some measure of narcotics in her system, which is typical, you know? It's why most of us make it through on grunt candy as much as possible, and she's no exception. The drugs were completely necessary when she was vented. She seemed to hold her own just fine during the hostage situation."

Grover nodded. "My guys were impressed. They said she was easy to work with, jumped in without hesitation but had no problem taking orders. She and Kono were grinning like idiots when you came through that window."

"There's no doubt in my mind she's dealing with PTSD, if that's what you're asking. But so am I, and so are you, and so is Danny . . . anyone who's been doing this long enough will, eventually."

"She said she could talk to you and Danny; promised me she would. That's good enough for now on my end. I'll ask that you see to it that happens, though." Grover smiled, and added, "I'll go so far as to suggest, off the record again, that talking to her will be good for you. There's enough dark and crazy in that head of yours to go around."

Steve chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Yeah, I, um . . .well, I expect she'll be staying with me for a while, so I'll try to make sure that happens."

Grover raised his eyebrows, "Wow, so that conflict of interest is no joke? Okay then, son, good for you."

They were interrupted by the insistent ringing of Grover's cell phone. He looked at the incoming number. "Hunh, how about that – it's Jax's sergeant I was just talking to this morning. Yes, Sergeant," he said, into the phone. Steve was startled when he jumped to his feet. "What the hell? Can you patch us into your comms feed? Use this cell number for starters; I'll get you a video link ASAP."

Grover headed into the squad room, Steve on his heels.

"What's going on, Lou?" he said. Chin and Kono came immediately to join them around the smart table.

Grover laid his phone down on the table. "Put this up on the screen, please, Chin – that was Jax's SWAT sergeant. O'Neil pulled a gun during the hearing; they have a situation there. Shots fired . . . and O'Neil has taken Danny hostage and holed up in a secure room.


	9. Chapter 9

The hearing had been progressing painfully. Danny resented the invasive questions that Jax had been forced to answer, but knew there was no other way around it. He was pretty sure he was reading disgust on the faces of the board during O'Neil's attempt to defend himself, but of course they were there to be impassive and objective so it was hard to tell.

By the time they had finished the first round of questions, it was pushing noon. Jax had held her own; back straight, head held high, answering questions in a calm, unaffected tone. However, Danny could see the telltale signs of exhaustion and strain: she was paling, the bruise still evident on her cheek standing out in sharper relief.

The presiding officer had called for a break. Jax stood to walk away from the witness table, and Danny noticed the faint tremor in her hands. Worried that she was shaky enough to need help, he stood to move towards her.

That was when all hell broke loose.

O'Neil had been waiting for the exact moment at which he could seize control of the room and Danny at the same time, and when it came, he didn't hesitate. Danny had moved between him and the rest of the officers, and once O'Neil had him around the neck, he was a perfect human shield.

O'Neil held his service weapon to Danny's temple and drug him across the conference room. He was only feet away from an exit, and he quickly wrestled Danny out of the room and into a service elevator. Once in the elevator, O'Neil shot out what he thought was only security camera.

The conference room erupted in a flurry of activity.

"Nolan, are you okay?" Jax's sergeant rushed to her side. She thumbed the safety back on her Sig and holstered it.

"What the hell happened?" she asked, stunned.

"Who was that he grabbed?" the sergeant asked urgently.

"My training officer, Detective Danny Williams," Jax answered. "He came to be with me today . . . it happened so fast I couldn't even get off a shot. Sergeant Mitchell . . . I heard a shot fired when he bailed into that elevator."

"I'm calling my team in," Mitchell said, "the building has already been locked down. He's not getting out, and we will find him. There has to be a reason he wants Williams alive, Nolan. He could have taken him out on the spot."

Two SWAT officers rushed into the room. "O'Neil has the civilian in the service elevator. No way in or out; the door is reinforced steel. They're between floors. We can't shoot our way in, and if we try to blast it . . . odds are not good."

Jax was quickly shedding her dress jacket and grabbing extra gear from her backpack. "That's no civilian; that's my former training officer, Detective Daniel Williams, and I'm going after him. Sergeant Mitchell, I need some gear."

Mitchell nodded. "You're sure you're up for this?"

"This is what you recruited me to do, Sergeant Mitchell. I've been training for this my entire career. I'm up for it."

"Hutch, Shorty – set her up. Let's try to get some sort of audio or video feed in that elevator."

As Jax fell in quickly behind the other two officers, Sergeant Mitchell grabbed his phone and dialed quickly.

"Yeah, Captain Grover? You need to be aware we have a situation here."

()()()()()()()()

"Okay, Sergeant Mitchell, you're on speaker with the Five-O team. What's the situation there?" Grover asked, as he looked worriedly at the rest of the team. Steve was pacing in front of the plasma.

"Williams moved in front of O'Neil for a split second. I think he was worried that Officer Nolan needed assistance; she was looking just a bit shaky as the first session was wrapping up. O'Neil had to have been waiting for the opportunity; this wasn't spur of the moment. He had Williams in a choke hold, had a gun to his head. We all drew down but no one had a shot. They exited the room through a door to O'Neil's rear. He kept Williams in front of him and the gun in physical contact with him the whole time," Mitchell explained.

"You said there were shots fired?" Steve asked, his voice strained with worry.

"We heard at least one shot as O'Neil pulled Williams into a service elevator. I'm sorry – Commander McGarrett, is it? – we have no idea if Williams has been injured. I think we have reason to be optimistic, though, that O'Neil wanted him alive; he had the opportunity to shoot him in the conference room."

"Is Jax okay?" Kono asked.

"She's gearing up. She'll be part of the SWAT operation; I didn't see any reason to tell her to stand down. I understand that Williams was her training officer, and he's now part of your task force?" Mitchell asked.

"That's correct, Sergeant," Steve answered.

"We'll do everything in our power, Commander," Mitchell assured them. "Keep this line open. I'm switching off to tactical radio with my team. You'll just hear background noise as we try to get audio and visual into the service elevator, but as soon as we have anything definitive we'll patch you in."

"Copy that; thank you, Sergeant," Grover answered.

Chin gripped Steve's shoulder and squeezed. "What can we do, Steve?"

Steve looked at Chin, stricken, then shifted into what Danny often referred to as his scary SEAL mode.

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Get me everything on O'Neil – and I mean *everything*; from his first day on the job. Cross reference absolutely anything that could be a connection between Danny, Jax, and O'Neil. There's a reason he grabbed Danny and not Jax – we need to figure out what that is."

"He could be punishing Jax by going after Danny," Kono suggested.

"That's a definite possibility," Steve said. "Let's find out everything we can. Also – get me a flight to New York."

Chin's fingers were flying over the smart table immediately, and Kono was at her desktop, clattering away on the keyboard. Information on O'Neil started to appear on the plasma, and Steve stalked in front of it, eyes scanning rapidly through the files. He slid the volume up on the open cell phone line, hoping to hear something of the operation going on in the background.

_"Pull those laptops in here . . . see if we can tap into the schematics . . . see if there's a secondary feed . . . see if there's an old one, maybe it wasn't ripped out when the new one was put in . . . "_

He heard Jax's voice, clear and calm. _"I need a backup, a vest, and please, for the love of God, someone find me a pair of boots."_

Steve smiled, running a shaky hand over the back of his head. He knew that Jax would stop at nothing to get to Danny.

 _Ohana. Irreplaceable. Gunpowder and honeysuckle. Partner. Friend._ His brain had ceased with the smart-ass subtitles and was firing off frantic reminders of how much he had to lose.

" _Okay, we have the building plans and original security feed schematics."_

_"Get Martinez in here, he's the best AV guy in Midtown."_

_"He's not SWAT."_

_"Doesn't matter, he's the best, and he's in the building. He was here for the hearing."_

Steve's head shot up.

"What is it, Steve?" Chin asked.

"Son of a bitch," he spat out. "Martinez was one of the . . . "

Chin was in fear for the preservation of the equipment. Steve had white-knuckled the edge of the smart table before, but this time Chin really thought it might crack. They strained to hear the lowered voices over the speaker.

_"You know why he was in the hearing, right? He was one of the guys that didn't make the cut; jumped Nolan in the alley with O'Neil and Jackson. She'll never work with him; and Mitchell will take her side, I guarantee it."_

They heard Sergeant Mitchell's voice, clear and controlled.

_"Officer Nolan will be part of the extraction team. If Martinez is the best, get him in here to do the job. Just keep him out of my sight. And keep in mind, gentlemen, Nolan dislocated his kneecap in their last interaction. I suggest you keep him out of her sight as well; for his own safety."_

Kono grinned widely and threw an arm around Steve's shoulders. "Brah, your girl is bad ass. She'll be fine, you'll see."

"I've got something on O'Neil," Chin said, pointing to the plasma. "There was a case, early 2001. Danny and his partner, Grace, had worked a drug trafficking case, targeting local high schools. O'Neil blew the case by mishandling evidence; accusation was that he was trying to keep some of the ecstasy for himself. The entire case fell apart, the perps walked, and six teenagers died because the ex that didn't get pulled off the street was tainted."

"Yeah, Danny mentioned that O'Neil had blown a case. Jax was training with them at the time, too," Steve said.

"Danny and Grace answered IA honestly. It's part of O'Neil's jacket," Chin said grimly.

"He's had an ax to grind a long, long time," Grover said. "This is about Danny."

"Okay, send that file to Sergeant Mitchell ASAP," Steve ordered.

They heard more agitated voices over the speaker phone, and turned to try to listen.

_"All right, we've got it. There's an old system, it was never deactivated when the new system was brought online. Martinez has a feed."_

_"Captain Grover?"_

They heard Sergeant Mitchell clearly; he was speaking directly into the phone now. "We've got an old audio/visual feed in the service elevator. We've got someone patching into it now. I'll use the video link you sent me, you'll see what we see in real time. I'll come back if I have anything else specific."

"Copy that, Sergeant. We're sending you background on O'Neil. It might be useful; he has a history with Detective Williams that could give you some insight into the situation," Grover added.

They all watched the plasma anxiously as the video feed flickered and scrolled through until it settled onto a grainy picture.

Kono gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, horrified. The camera was focused on Danny. The left side of his face was covered in blood, dripping down from his eyebrow onto his shirt. His eye was swollen almost shut, but even with the grainy quality of the feed, they could read the determination in the steel blue of his right eye, which was fixed unflinchingly on O'Neil.

They heard Sergeant Mitchell's voice clearly over the speaker phone. He must have moved his cell to the AV set-up.

_"Thank you, Martinez, until we ask for you again, please stand by . . . as far out of my sight as possible."_

They waited out a few beats of silence.

_"Okay: Hutch, Shorty, Nolan – we've got visual, audio is spotty but we're getting about eighty percent."_

The team held their breath, knowing that Jax was seeing exactly what they were seeing. They heard her voice, once again calm and controlled.

" _Williams is injured and restrained. Looks like O'Neil has him cuffed to the handrail. Sergeant Mitchell, with all due respect, I think we have all we need from the video feed. We need to go in hot and pull him out."_

_"I agree, Nolan, but the elevator is between floors, and we've not been able to override the controls. O'Neil thought this out well in advance. It's an old elevator: all he had to do was manually turn the key. We can't electronically override anything. We can't blast our way in; we'll send the elevator dropping seven floors."_

They heard a different voice.

_"O'Neil didn't know about the old security feed; maybe there's more he doesn't know. Shorty, pull up everything we've got on the elevator. Service records, everything. That's how we go in."_

The sound from the speakerphone turned into a generalized buzz of conversation. Movement on the video feed caught Steve's eye, and he looked back up at the plasma.

()()()()()()()()

_The team watched in growing horror as the scene played out in front of them . . ._

Danny squared his shoulders, facing O'Neil unflinchingly. His arms were aching from being pulled tightly behind him, but he continued to quietly and discretely work at the handcuffs. _Come on, Jersey slip,_ he thought to himself. He'd managed to get quite a few solid punches in, though, and his bruised and swollen knuckles weren't making this easy.

O'Neil paced arrogantly in front of him.

"Well, well, well, Danny boy," he sneered. "This was a lot of trouble, I must say. And very satisfying so far."

"Well, I'm happy if you're happy, you rat bastard," Danny spat back.

"You've ruined my life, Williams. You and that bitch Grace."

"You ruined the lives of six families, O'Neil, when you botched that case and those kids died."

Danny grunted as O'Neil threw a bruising punch to his midsection.

"They got what they deserved, those entitled brats," O'Neil snarled. "I, on the other hand, got passed up for almost every promotion, thanks to you."

"So, what, you decided to wait ten years and take out your frustration on someone else?" Danny's voice was strained, but he wasn't backing down. "You weren't man enough to face me while we were still in Jersey?"

O'Neil waved his gun toward Danny. "I had to leave Jersey, thanks to you selling me out to IA."

"I didn't sell you out, you ignorant jackass. You blew the whole case skimming drugs out of evidence."

"It wouldn't have hurt anyone. The department doesn't pay us enough; we gotta make up the difference where we can."

"You complete moron. The Ex was tainted. The only contribution you made to humanity in stealing some was that it at least kept that batch off the streets. I wish you'd given it a try, gotten a taste of what you thought those kids deserved." Danny spit out a mouthful of blood along with his last comment.

O'Neil backhanded Danny soundly, the crack resonating in the small space.

"This is not about the drugs, Williams! It's not about me. It's about you, ruining my life."

Danny smiled inwardly. He was controlling the conversation and O'Neil was getting frustrated. Frustrated people made mistakes. Or lost control and shot people, but he wasn't going to think about that right now.

O'Neil holstered his weapon, reined in his anger, and lowered his voice. "This was always about you, Danny boy. It was never about the drugs, or me, or your pretty little rookie. This was always about you, getting what was coming to you. The fact that I had to wait ten years for an opportunity just makes it that much sweeter."

"So again, that brings me back to the same question, you ridiculous cretin: you took out your frustration on someone half your size, because you weren't man enough to face me? Is that how this worked?" Danny hissed.

O'Neil reached up and patted Danny's face in a sinister gesture.

"Oh, Danny boy, I won't deny working out certain . . . frustrations . . . on your pretty little rookie. When I found out that the little bitch had taken my spot on SWAT, I realized that you were still screwing with my life, ten years later and all the way from Hawaii."

Danny spat out another mouthful of blood, this time landing squarely on O'Neil's shoes. "Gotta say, O'Neil, there's a certain beautiful poetic irony to that, isn't there? I mean, the rookie that I trained, who witnessed your ass-wipery early in her career, growing up to outshine you in every way, including earning a place on SWAT? It's beautiful, really, I just love it."

O'Neil delivered another punishing blow to Danny, smiling in satisfaction as he felt a rib crack.

"Oh, I can tell you what's beautiful, Danny boy, is that little rookie of yours. I can see now, why you wanted to keep her all to yourself. Probably what started the end of your marriage to that uptight Brit, right? I mean, who would want to go home to an ice princess when you can have a fireball?"

Danny lunged at O'Neil, almost dislocating his shoulder as the handcuffs jerked him violently back.

O'Neil chuckled lewdly. "Of course, by the time I got to her, she was all grown up and ripe for the picking. Feisty, too. Did you teach her that?"

"Shut up, you miserable son of a bitch," Danny snarled.

"Lot of fight in that one. Jackson had pistol whipped her pretty good but she didn't go down. She got Martinez by the throat; he had to pull his knife." O'Neil drew a wicked looking knife and slowly carved into Danny's bicep. "How's that feel, Danny boy? How do you think that felt, slicing through that soft flesh of hers?"

Danny gritted his teeth against the pain, and ground out, "If I know Jax, it probably barely slowed her down."

"Oh, it slowed her down. Not her smart mouth, though."

"Well, she always did have a bit of an attitude," Danny goaded. "Not that you three stooges could appreciate her humor."

O'Neil grabbed Danny around the throat and squeezed, hard.

"I shut her up, though. Those nice fingerprints she still has under her collar? Those are mine, Danny boy. I wonder how many nights she'll wake up, feeling my hands around her throat? Hmm? Like you're feeling now?"

Danny wheezed, spots appearing in his vision.

O'Neil released his grip in favor of another vicious backhand across Danny's face.

Danny spit out another mouthful of blood. He shrugged. "I'm not sure. According to the report, she sent the three of you away in the back of an ambulance. I imagine she wakes up some nights feeling quite pleased with that."

O'Neil was enraged. "If you read the report, Danny boy, then you know we walked out of the emergency room, but we put that little bitch in for real. You think you trained her so well, but she was no match for us."

"Yeah, no match for three idiots all twice her size . . . took three of you though, didn't it O'Neil? You couldn't even take her by yourself."

O'Neil patted the side of Danny's face again.

"Oh, I took her by myself, though, when it really counted," he drawled.

Danny's skin crawled. "Shut up, you bastard. Shut up."

"She cried for you, Danny boy. I bet that wasn't in the report. Jackson had clipped her hard enough that she didn't know where she was . . . she called for her precious brother . . . cried for you. It was better than I ever could have hoped for."

Danny took advantage of O'Neil's proximity and butted his head against his nose as hard as he possibly could. Blood spurted from O'Neil's nose. Enraged, he grabbed Danny by the throat again and bashed his head violently back against the elevator wall.

()()()()()()()()

The team watched, horrified, as Danny slumped down, his hands caught behind his back and his body weight straining forward.

"Sergeant Mitchell, I hope you have a plan. Williams isn't going to hold up forever," Grover said tersely into the phone.

Kono had wrapped her arms around Steve, partly for his comfort but largely for her own. She was terrified for Danny; and equally horrified at Steve having to watch, helpless, as his best friend and partner was subjected to the vicious blows and equally vicious taunts.

Mitchell was once again speaking directly into the phone, so the team could hear him clearly.

"Officer Nolan is going in from the elevator shaft above. There is a small access panel. We're counting on O'Neil either not knowing about it, or assuming that no one can get through."

"Consistently underestimated," Steve murmured. "Who's going in with her?" he asked aloud.

There was a beat of silence. "Hutch and Shorty will lower her down from the floor above. There are screws to be removed from the access panel. More than one person, we run the risk of tipping O'Neil off to our move before we can get in."

"What's the objective, here, Sergeant?" Grover asked.

"She either convinces O'Neil to surrender or takes him out," Mitchell answered.

"Have you been watching this feed?" Steve demanded. "Surrender is incredibly unlikely. She should be instructed to take the shot as soon as she has it."

"And if O'Neil is actively threatening Williams, she can. Otherwise, she follows protocol, which is to give the suspect the opportunity to lay down their weapon," Mitchell insisted.

Steve shook his head and started pacing again. Protocol put Jax at a huge disadvantage.

"How long before she's ready to go in?" Chin asked, worriedly watching the feed of Danny, still appearing semi-conscious and slumped forward.

"She's getting ready to head to the floor above the elevator. Hutch and Shorty are getting her set with an earwig and safety harness. We'll be running hot in less than five," Mitchell answered.

Steve stopped pacing and stood next to the phone. "Sergeant Mitchell," he said quietly, "how much of this feed did Jax see?"

Mitchell hesitated. "She was going over the elevator schematics, so just bits and pieces. But enough."

Steve couldn't seem to get words past his heart in his throat, but Kono could guess what he wanted to know and asked. "Is she okay?"

"Officer Nolan is a professional," Mitchell answered firmly. "She is locked and loaded, ready to go, and completely focused on her objective. I stand by my decision to bring her to SWAT now more than ever."

They heard Jax's voice clearly. "I'm ready, sir."

"Officer Nolan, you should know – Detective William's team in Hawaii has been on speaker and tapped in to the live feed. I called Captain Grover the minute this started," Mitchell stated.

Kono and Chin looked at each other in confusion, but held their questions.

Steve was staring at the cellphone as if it contained the answer to the meaning of life.

"I'm hurrying home to Hawaii, Steve," Jax said firmly, "and I'm bringing Danny back with me."

Steve struggled for a split second to keep his voice calm and steady. "Go get our boy, Jax," he said.

()()()()()()()()

The team turned their attention back to the live feed from the elevator.

O'Neil was pacing. Apparently, his plan wasn't as much fun with Danny barely conscious. He cupped his hand over Danny's cheek and smacked him lightly. To the team's relief, Danny groaned in response and tried to ease some of the strain on his shoulders, pushing himself back toward the handrail.

"Oh, there you are, Danny boy. Thought you'd checked out on me," O'Neil taunted.

"Guess I was just bored, O'Neil," Danny said. His voice was pained and breathless, and his breathing seemed labored.

"Oh, really? Just as I was getting to the good part, telling you how your little rookie cried for you when I put her in her place? I doubt that."

Danny sensed a shift in the airflow immediately above his head. He carefully schooled his features not to reveal anything.

"So if this is all about me, O'Neil, how come all you can talk about is Jax? Why bring her into it, aside from being too much of a coward to face me?" Danny was provoking him again, hoping to keep him distracted in the event something was indeed going on outside the compartment.

"Because, Danny boy, I needed to get you to New York. And what better way than to put your precious rookie in the hospital? She doesn't have a single soul here, you know: brother dead, parents flew the coop, you off to the tropics. I figured she would call and you would come running," O'Neil complained.

"So that was your end game, you miserable son of a bitch? You went after Jax to bait me here? You insufferable coward," Danny said. "You shoulda just called me. I would have gladly come here to beat your ass."

"No, Danny boy, you would have called your buddies in IA. No, I had to have a sure-fire way to get you here."

"And then Jax went and spoiled all your plans by shrugging off your pathetic attack and coming to Hawaii on a paid vacation. Pity." Danny was goading O'Neil again. He heard the faintest metallic scraping sound above his head.

"Pathetic?!" O'Neil bellowed.

"Yeah," Danny wheezed. "Couldn't have been but so effective, she was capable of kicking you solid in the nuts, you jackass."

O'Neil pulled his gun and shoved it in Danny's face again.

"Pathetic? I'll tell you about pathetic, Danny boy . . . the way your precious Jax cried for you and bled for me."

"Uncuff me, you coward, and we'll see who bleeds," Danny spat out.

O'Neil racked the slide. "Nah, I had my fun with Jax, now it's time to watch you bleed."

" _Take the shot"_ Mitchell whispered quietly into Jax's earwig.

Jax had removed the final screw in the access panel. At Mitchell's instruction, she wrenched the panel away and launched herself headfirst through the opening – taking the shot as instructed. She caught O'Neil square in center mass, the recoil of her shot setting her off balance.

Shorty and Hutch tried to compensate but the movement was so sudden that they didn't maintain control of her cable, and Jax crashed onto the floor of the elevator, landing squarely on her right, previously injured, shoulder.

Jax couldn't avoid the gasp of pain as her weakened shoulder dislocated.

O'Neil had staggered backward but was somehow, impossibly, raising his gun again.

"Vest", Steve said grimly. "She got him but he had on a vest."

Jax tried in vain to raise her weapon, and quickly realized that her shoulder was useless. She lashed out with her leg and swept O'Neil's feet out from under him. As he fell, his gun discharged and the team watched in horror as Danny's thigh stained crimson and he cried out in pain.

For a horrifying moment, the team could not see Jax or O'Neil, only Danny as he struggled to stay on his feet. Then they heard another shot ring out, and saw O'Neil fall in front of the camera; heard the unmistakable thud of his dead weight hitting the floor of the elevator.

Steve breathed out a sigh of relief as Jax moved back into the range of the camera. Her Sig was clutched firmly in her left hand. She thumbed the safety back on and holstered it awkwardly. She looked up at the opening in the top of the elevator and shouted to Hutch and Shorty. "Clear!"

They heard a voice call down to her. "You're sure?"

"Head shot. I'm sure." She moved quickly to Danny, who was struggling to remain conscious.

"Toss me the kit," she yelled up toward the opening, and a red bag was immediately dropped. She quickly released Danny from his handcuffs and eased him down onto the floor. Grabbing gauze out of the kit, she started applying pressure to Danny's leg. Her movements were awkward and pained, as she worked left-handed and tried to keep her right shoulder still.

Steve heard the first edge of panic in her voice as she yelled back up to her team members. "Get us to the floor, guys. We've got to get him to the hospital."


	10. Chapter 10

Kono was brilliant and ballsy. Steve knew it the day Chin introduced her, but he loved being reminded of it. She'd rounded up his and Danny's go bags, and tossed in extra clothes for Jax as well, having raided the locker room. She'd contacted Hickham and talked her way into a seat for him on the best, fastest, first available flight. Granted, it was in one of the most uncomfortable aircraft known to man, but he didn't care. He was desperate to get to Danny and Jax. He'd torn himself away from the live feed in order to make the flight, and in the chaos and confusion at the precinct, updates weren't coming in fast.

The final images from the video feed were burned into his memory. Danny, bloody and barely conscious; Jax, furiously trying to stop the bleeding with her shoulder visibly and obviously displaced under her Kevlar. Jax, yelling for her team to get them to a floor, yelling at Danny to stay with her. She'd been forced to leave Danny's side in order to turn the elevator key and get the compartment moving; there had been no way for the others to get through the opening to join her. Steve's last glimpse was of Danny, bleeding on the floor, and Jax, grim and determined, spattered with Danny and O'Neil's blood.

As the plane made its bumpy landing eight hours later, a text came through from Grover.

_Bellevue Hospital. Danny stable. Nolan contacted his family._

Steve deboarded the plane, bags in hand. A young lieutenant approached him. "Sir, I understand you have team members at Bellevue? I'm here to drive you."

()()()()()()()()

"Thank you, lieutenant," Steve said, as he jumped out of the Jeep at the hospital entrance.

"My pleasure, sir, and good luck," the young man said, as he drove off into the night. One advantage to arriving during the night shift was the lack of traffic.

Steve shouldered the bags and made his way to the emergency room entrance. The weary receptionist directed him to third floor surgery. He felt a hum of tension as he made his way to the elevator bay. _Surgery?_ _Just how bad were Danny's injuries?_

The elevator brought back the image of O'Neil taunting Danny: " . . . _she cried for you and bled for me . . . "_ and he scrubbed his hand across his face. Where was Jax? He assumed she would be with Danny. He'd texted her once from the Jeep, but had no response. Of course, it had been an interminably long day. Her battery was probably long since dead. Still, he couldn't dismiss the growing sense of dread. She'd obviously had a dislocated shoulder. What if she'd suffered other injuries?

The ding of the elevator interrupted his thoughts, and he anxiously exited the doors in search of answers. He stopped at the nurse's station.

"I'm looking for Officer Daniel Williams, and Officer Jacqueline Nolan. I believe they would have been brought in together?" he asked politely, showing his badge for good measure. He'd found that usually expedited the process. "Commander McGarrett, I'm Danny's partner."

"Yes," the nurse said, "We've been expecting you. Mr. Williams has had to go in for surgery to repair a punctured lung."

"Broken rib?" Steve guessed.

"Yes, unfortunately. They had hoped a chest tube placed in the ER would be sufficient; however, the tear proved too severe and they had to surgically repair it. The prognosis is excellent. Mr. Williams is in recovery and will be moved to Room 307 soon. Are those bags for him? You can take them to the room now." The nurse came out from behind her station and started moving toward the room.

"And Officer Nolan?"

The nurse hesitated. "She is currently in the waiting room. She's refused to leave Mr. William's side until you or someone from his family arrived. We've been in contact with his family, and his father and sister are on the way, but they have yet to arrive."

"What about her dislocated shoulder?" Steve asked, as they paused to put the bags in Danny's room.

"Ah, yes. She did allow us to convince her to go to the emergency room while Mr. Williams was in surgery. It's been relocated, but she refuses to take anything stronger than –"

"Than Motrin," Steve supplied. "She has PTSD and has been through a critical operation today. I'm not surprised that she refused narcotics."

"I understand," the nurse said sympathetically. "But in addition to the dislocated shoulder, she also badly sprained or possibly fractured her wrist; completed a fracture of a previously cracked rib; and aggravated the hairline fracture of her collarbone. She has to be in extreme pain."

"And she's been in the waiting room for how long?" Steve asked, quickening his pace.

"She came back up from the ER . . . oh no, it's been over an hour. I'm sorry; we intended to check on her but we had a code . . . "

Steve lengthened his stride, moving quickly to the waiting room at the end of the hallway. The nurse matched her pace to Steve's and practically ran to keep up. When they reached the door of the waiting room, he held up his hand, gesturing for the nurse to stay back. "Let me go in first, okay? Just in case . . ."

The nurse nodded in understanding. "I'll be right here. Just tell me what we need."

Steve entered the room quietly. It was dark, and he gave his eyes a minute to adjust. He heard her before he saw her.

"Steve?"

He breathed a huge sigh of relief. She knew exactly who he was, seemed oriented to time and place. His eyes scanned the room, still adjusting, and he saw her curled awkwardly onto the vinyl loveseat in the corner of the room. She'd instinctively sought out the position that gave her the best possible advantage against someone coming in the room. So, still hypervigilant, then, but that was okay. He was across the room in two strides, kneeling in front of her.

Her eyes locked onto his. "Danny?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"He's in recovery. His broken rib punctured the lung, and what they did in the ER wasn't quite enough to fix it. The nurse says he's going to be absolutely fine. I didn't ask about his arm or leg," he said, carefully taking her shaking left hand in his.

"Lots of stitches," she said. "I got them to send someone from plastics in to do the sutures."

Steve smiled. He could just picture it; Jax still in full tac gear, demanding a plastic surgeon. He wouldn't have been surprised if she had threatened them with bodily harm. "You did good, Jax," he said.

She dropped her head. "It was the least I could do; I didn't stop O'Neil before he got off a shot."

"Jax, look at me," Steve said, tucking his fingers under her chin and raising her eyes to his. "You were amazing today. You saved Danny's life. O'Neil would have killed him . . . killed both of you." He stopped, as he came to a full realization of how close he'd come to losing them both. Gently, mindful of her injuries, he wrapped his arms around Jax, needing to reassure himself that she was still solid and whole. She rested her head against his shoulder and he held her for a moment, before realizing that it wasn't just her hands that were shaky. Her entire body was trembling violently.

"Jax, you're shaking," he said, concerned.

"'M'cold," she chattered.

Steve looked back toward the door, where, sure enough, bless her, the nurse was watching and waiting.

"Shock?" she asked. "I'm going to get warm blankets." She was off at top speed, and returned in seconds with three blankets from the warmer. Entering the room quietly, she added, "I'm going to turn the lights on just a bit, okay?" She slid a dimmer switch up and soft light filtered into the room. Moving swiftly to Steve's side, she wrapped one of the blankets around Jax's back, and then helped stabilize her shoulder as they eased her back away from Steve.

"Aw, shit, Jax," Steve whispered, as he got a first good look at her.

Her curls were matted in blood. Steve moved frantic fingers through her hair, searching for a head wound.

"'S'not mine," Jax mumbled. "O'Neil's. Head shot, close range."

Steve ghosted a hand over her right shoulder and collarbone. The ER had wrapped her wrist, put her arm in a sling, and overwrapped her shoulder and rib cage with elastic bandages. Someone had done a cursory job of cleaning her up, but there were still smudges of blood on her arms, hands, and face. Probably Danny's and O'Neil's . . . still, Steve couldn't help but check.

"None of it's mine," Jax sighed wearily, as the nurse handed Steve another blanket to wrap around her.

The nurse shook her head in dismay. "I'm so sorry; we didn't realize . . . "

Steve looked up at her. "I'm sure she insisted she was fine," he said gently, "and she may have even thought she was, until the adrenaline wore off. Until someone else came for Danny, she would operate on the assumption that she had to have it together in order to take care of him."

The nurse nodded. "Look," she said, "this is bending the rules a bit, but it's the least I can do: Mr. Williams won't be back in his room for a while, and he's not going to be using his shower any time soon. Do you have a change of clothes for her in one of those bags?"

"Of sorts – one of my team members raided our lockers and packed up for her the best she could."

The nurse smiled. "Okay, keep her warm and comfortable for a few minutes. If you don't mind, I'll go see what I can pull together for her, and then we can let her use Mr. William's shower. I may be oversimplifying here, but I'm betting that a nice hot shower, getting that blood off of her, and getting into some clean clothes will make a world of difference. And maybe we can talk about some better pain relief."

"That would be incredibly helpful," Steve said sincerely. The sight of Jax spattered in blood was something he could do without. Keeping Jax wrapped in the warm blankets, he eased her into his arms and sat back down on the loveseat, cradling her against him.

"This is ridiculous," she mumbled against his shoulder, still shaking.

"What?" he asked, amused.

"You, having to take care of me, like some helpless little kid," she grumbled. "Again."

"Helpless? Hardly. I watched you dive headfirst into an elevator and take that bastard out, remember? And then you took care of Danny, got him to safety. I bet you rode in the ambulance with him all the way here, didn't you?"

Jax nodded. "I was so scared, Steve," she said, her voice breaking. "In the ambulance, he wouldn't wake up. And then they put a chest tube in, in the emergency room, and he was looking better while they sewed him up. Then we were in a regular room, and he was just resting, and then he stopped breathing. Scared the living shit out of me."

"I know," Steve said, stroking her cheek gently, "he's okay now, Jax. And I've seen him come back from much worse."

Jax looked up at him, skeptical. "Then you gotta take better care of him, you Neanderthal."

()()()()()()()()

The nurse was right; getting clean and warm made a huge difference. Jax emerged from the shower wearing one of Danny's old hockey t-shirts and a pair of scrub pants. Her hair was dripping slightly, and Steve gently squeezed out the water and rubbed her curls with a towel.

"Better?" the nurse said, poking her head in the door.

"Much," Jax smiled. "Thanks for the scrubs."

"You're welcome. All of the options in the bags were much, much too long," she smiled. "You need to get that sling and wrap back on as soon as possible, though. Mr. Williams is on his way back from recovery. I'll get him settled and then take care of that, okay? And we're going to talk about some real pain relief for you. Technically, you're still a patient through the ER department, so we can give you anything you need."

Jax nodded. "Please, can I see Danny first, before you knock me out?"

"Yes," the nurse said, laughing and shaking her head. "But only since that should be within the next twenty minutes or so."

When they wheeled Danny's bed into the room, Jax felt her knees go weak with relief.

"He looks so much better," she whispered to Steve, waiting for the personnel to get him settled before she took his hand.

"Better?" Steve said skeptically. He was glad, then, that he hadn't been here for the worse.

Danny cracked his good eye open and attempted a smile at Jax. "Hey, kid," he mumbled.

"Who are you calling kid? I saved your ass today. Hey, Steve's here," Jax said, stepping back to make room for him.

"Hey, partner," Steve said. "You scared us."

"Ah, a taste of your own medicine," Danny said weakly. Looking at Jax, he frowned. "Where's your sling? And how did you steal my t-shirt?"

"The nurse is coming back in to get her sorted," Steve chucked. "And Kono raided our lockers to send clothes for Jax. Your shirts are the shortest, Danno."

()()()()()()()()

When Danny's father and sister arrived an hour later, the concerns they'd had about Danny being alone in the hospital were completely alleviated.

A weary Steve was asleep in the recliner immediately next to Danny's bed. He was holding Jax, sound asleep, bandaged and drugged to the hilt, her good hand clutched tight in Danny's as he floated on his own narcotic cloud.

When his family came in, Danny stirred slightly and opened his eyes. "Hey, guys," he said quietly. "Thanks for coming. I'll introduce you to my team . . . when they wake up."

The nurse smiled and quietly brought in two more chairs.

()()()()()()()()

**Friday**

Friday morning rounds brought good news and bad news.

"Well, Mr. Williams, you should be able to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow," the doctor said. "However, you're going to need to wait at least a week before flying. Your lung needs more time to heal before it can take the change in air pressure."

"We can drive Danny home, and he can fly back to Hawaii from Newark next week," his sister said, ruffling his hair affectionately. "He has a couple of nieces that would love nothing more than to play nurse to Uncle Danny for a week. And, he can give orders from the sofa – we're going to pack up Jacqueline's things for shipment and take care of subletting her apartment. "

"Excellent, excellent," the doctor said. "Now," he added, looking sternly over his glasses at Jax, "you, young lady. What are we going to do with you?"

Steve smacked the smart ass part of his brain that was, once again, supplying responses that were neither relevant nor appropriate.

The doctor spared Steve a suspicious glance and continued. "You are medically safe to travel, although I can assure you it's not going to be comfortable. However, I suspect you would rest more comfortably and heal much better somewhere other than this hospital room or the waiting room, where I know you've spent the last twelve hours. Where is home for you, my dear, and do you have someone who can get you there safely and make sure you take time to heal?"

"Home is Hawaii, and yes," Steve stated emphatically.

"Schmuck," Danny grumbled, but he squeezed Jax's hand affectionately all the same.

()()()()()()()()

Jax had dozed off in the recliner again. Danny's father and sister had insisted that Steve take a turn stretching his legs and getting some half-decent food.

"So, Danny, this was your rookie, back in 2001?" his father asked, gently pulling a blanket around Jax's sleeping form.

"Yeah," Danny said, wincing as he turned to look at Jax. "She's a firecracker. Saved my life yesterday, that's for sure."

"You trained her well, Danny," his sister said proudly. "And it seems your new partner, Steve, is quite smitten with her."

"See? You've seen the face. The smitten face," Danny said. "He doesn't believe he has a face."

"Oh, he definitely has a face," his sister nodded in agreement.

"Danny," Steve protested as he returned with coffee for Jax, "stop with the faces."

He stopped and looked fondly at Jax. "She's out again?" he said, amused. And relieved, honestly, that the combination of painkillers suggested by the nurse had allowed her to sleep without nightmares. That nurse, he decided, should get some sort of commendation.

Jax stirred, sniffing the air for coffee, and sighing happily when Steve placed the steaming cup in her good hand.

"I see the face," Danny's father contributed helpfully.

()()()()()()()()

Captain Grover and Sergeant Mitchell had put requests up the chain in their respective states, resulting in first class plane tickets all around.

Steve gripped Danny's hand firmly. "Heal up, partner. You're the only Five-O member that understands protocol. We're probably gonna get in all kinds of trouble without you."

"No kidding," Danny groused. "Can you be trusted to not put Jax in the middle of any gunfights? Please try to keep yourselves in one piece until I get back."

"I will take excellent care of her," Steve said, smirking.

"Steven," Danny said, narrowing his eyes.

"Thank you so much, for taking care of my apartment," Jax was saying to Danny's sister, as she hugged her gently goodbye.

"Sweetheart, it's the least we could do. Thank you for risking so much to save my brother's life. I'm just so sorry that we didn't realize how things were for you once he moved – we could have helped in some way. But listen, anytime we can convince him to come home for a visit, you come along, too, okay? You'll always have family in Jersey."

Jax kissed Danny on the cheek. "Bye, Danno," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry that you came with me and got hurt . . . "

"Stop it right there, Jax," Danny said firmly. "This was always about me. O'Neil would have found a way; he was such a coward that he used you. You go home with Steve, heal up, and then we'll get you sorted and put all this behind us."

"Um, yeah, Danny, about that," Jax said. "I sort of have a job in Hawaii already."

"No. No. Absolutely not. I see that crazy look in your eye. No, Steven, I vehemently protest the idea of her joining Five-O. The both of you are trouble magnets," Danny ranted.

"Oh, I agree," Steve said amicably. "She shouldn't be with Five-O."

"She is not – wait, what?" Danny asked, confused.

"I'm going to be with Grover," Jax answered. "HPD SWAT."

"Yeah," Steve added, with mock seriousness, "it would have been a complete conflict of interest for me to hire her for Five-O."

"Conflict of –" Danny broke off. "Oh, heaven help us all."


	11. Chapter 11

**Friday**

Steve stretched his long legs comfortably in front of him. He had never been bothered by cramped, uncomfortable flights – his entire career had been composed of uncomfortable transportation – but he had to admit, first class had its advantages. Grover and Mitchell had easily convinced the powers that be that the nature of Jax and Danny's injuries warranted first class accommodations; who was he to argue? The flight attendants had marvelously supplied Jax with an assortment of pillows and blankets, trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

He smiled to himself, remembering the discovery that her feet didn't quite reach the floor. She'd shrugged, explaining that it was status quo for her. But he knew that while it was probably uncomfortable under normal circumstances, it would be absolutely agonizing with a cracked rib. As soon as the seat belt light had gone off, he'd gently spun her around so that her good side was leaning into him, and her feet propped up on the seat. He'd snagged one pillow to wedge behind her back, and propped another under her injured arm, which had thankfully been declared just badly sprained and not broken. She'd sighed in relief and looked at him questioningly, wondering how he'd known _exactly_ what to do.

"I've dislocated a shoulder a few times," he'd explained. So that was how he found himself, for the fifth time in less than two weeks, holding her small frame securely against him, amazed at how perfectly _right_ it felt. From that moment when she first appeared in his kitchen, in all her bruised glory, holding gauze pads and antibiotic cream, he'd wanted nothing more than to protect her from every imaginable hurt; and since that moment, he'd witnessed her in life-threatening situations – plural. He wasn't sure how he would handle her being on SWAT; but then again, he damn sure knew he couldn't handle her being on Five-O – it was hard enough watching Chin, Kono, and Danny in harm's way firsthand, and he suspected he'd be dangerously distracted with Jax in that position.

The flight attendant stopped by and asked quietly if he needed anything.

"Water, please," he responded, "and something with a lot of calories for her."

The doctor and nurse had pulled him aside and given him a stern lecture on the care and feeding of one Jacqueline Nolan.

"In the space of a month, this young woman has been brutally attacked, subjected to respiratory arrest, and has just worsened or aggravated all of her injuries. In addition, she's lost about ten pounds, some of which is lost muscle mass due to forced inactivity. These are the _physical_ injuries from which she needs to recover. Her sergeant here at NYPD and her new captain there in Hawaii have both been in contact with us; we understand she has several weeks paid leave still coming to her from NYPD. She needs to use that time to undergo some intensive physical therapy. Does she have people in Hawaii who can make sure that happens?"

Steve had confidently assured them that yes, he would drive her to physical therapy himself.

 _You could help with the physical therapy. That would be useful and a perfectly legitimate reason to touch_ . . . _whoa, Commander. Injured. Severely injured. No touching._

The nurse had picked up where the doctor left off. "I've written out the protocol for the pain relief treatment we've used here at the hospital. As you can imagine, being so close to Ground Zero, we have many, many patients who experience a worsening of PTSD symptoms when they have to use pain medication. So, we've worked hard to develop a program that seems to work well for many. This should go in her medical file for future reference. And we'll need to make sure she's dosed before she gets on that plane. It's going to be a long, uncomfortable flight otherwise. And Steve," she'd added, "this just addresses the best option for pain relief. You and I both know it's not a cure."

His attention was brought back to the present when Jax stirred and shifted.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Just a little stiff and sore. My good parts are getting tired from pulling the weight of all my bad parts," she wisecracked.

"Here," Steve said, as he easily maneuvered her forward on her seat, and began gently rubbing her neck and shoulder; his large hands easily covering the aching joints. "By the way, you know you're going to have to get set up for physical therapy when we get home, right?"

"Home," she sighed.

His hands stilled. "You regretting leaving New York?" he asked quietly.

"Nope," she said, moving her shoulder as a hint for him to resume. "Trying the word on for size."

"And?"

"I like it. New York hasn't been home since Danny left the area . . . he was absolutely the last family I had left there. Ow."

"Sorry. Your neck is in knots. Well, you have family waiting for you in Hawaii."

The flight attendant returned. "Here's your water, and we made a smoothie. You said something with a lot of calories, but we assumed you didn't mean sugar. Hope this is okay; it's banana blueberry."

"You ordered me calories?" Jax said, raising an eyebrow. "And thank you, it looks great."

"I am under orders to make absolutely sure you don't lose another pound."

"Fitting into tight spaces is part of my SWAT specialty, you know," Jax pointed out.

"Yes, but if your cargo pants literally fall off of you, that's going to be a life-threatening distraction to your team mates," Steve countered.

Jax snorted. "Did Danny ever tell you about the time we were going over a fence, and his pants caught at the top?"

"No," Steve grinned widely. "Seriously?"

"He was wearing his lucky boxers. Which, as it turns out, weren't so lucky."

Steve threw back his head and laughed. Jax decided on the spot that she would make it her mission in life to hear that laugh as often as possible.

"Grace and I competed to see who could get him the most obnoxious boxers for each holiday after that," Jax continued. "I have kept the tradition going for ten years in her honor."

"Oh, that explains so much," Steve said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Oh my gosh – he _wears_ them?" Jax asked, breaking into a huge smile.

"Danny is very frugal," Steve reminded her.

They passed several hours swapping Danny stories, until pain and fatigue became so evident on Jax's face that Steve insisted she take another dose of medication and rest.

"Are you sure?" she hesitated, as Steve held out the combination of tablets.

"This is exactly what they were giving you in the hospital. I've gotta say, it's the best I've seen you sleep in two weeks. The nurse wrote out the protocol and I've got it in your file to give to your new doctor. It's safe to take it, I promise. Besides, if you do have any nightmares, I'm right here, sweetheart." The endearment slipped off his tongue without a second thought, but he didn't see any indication that she minded.

Jax nodded and held out her hand for the pills, stealing his water bottle and washing them down. He shifted her so that her good side was leaning into the seat, propped her arm with pillows again, and pulled her knees up and into his lap.

"Comfy?" he asked.

"Yep," she confirmed. "Tell me stories about Chin and Kono, please?"

()()()()()()()()

"Jax," Steve whispered. "We're landing."

"Hmm?" she murmured, snuggling her head into his shoulder.

"Wake up. You need to get your seatbelt back on. We're landing."

"We're home?" she asked sleepily.

"Yeah. Home," he said, dropping a kiss into her curls and reluctantly slipping her into her seat.

Kono was waiting for them at the gate, waving enthusiastically.

"Where to, boss?" she asked as they pulled away.

"Back to the office, if you don't mind, Jax," Steve said. "I need to at least pick up the last couple days' paperwork to take home with me."

"Oh, please, let's go. I would love to find something remotely useful to do. I'm sick of hospitals," Jax replied.

"Pretty sure saving Danny's life was useful," Kono pointed out.

They were interrupted by Jax's cell phone ringing. She looked perplexed, but then smiled when she saw the incoming call.

"Yes, Captain Grover?" she answered. "Monday morning, yes sir. Thank you."

"Grover?" Kono questioned.

"I have an official job interview," Jax replied. "Monday morning, ten am."

"Sweet! So that's why your sergeant in New York called Grover." Kono cheered. "Although I'd hoped Steve would grab you for our team. It would be so much more efficient to have our own medic."

"Hey," Steve protested. "I'm a Navy SEAL for crying out loud. I'm medic trained, too. Just because you all don't like my methods . . . "

"Methods? Please. Your methods involve duct tape and bamboo. Even I'm not that hard core," Kono said, shaking her head.

()()()()()()()()

They spent some time puttering around Steve's office. Kono and Chin had completed all of the week's work with their usual efficiency, although Kono's paperwork had the customary smudges from eating at her desk.

Steve placed a courtesy call to the governor, thanking her for the plane tickets, and updating her on Danny's status. Kono and Jax could hear his half of the conversation. "I'll send over the paperwork, ma'am, but I'm going to have to sign off on at least a few weeks' medical leave. Yes, ma'am, a graze, thanks to Jax, but a very deep one; and then he also suffered a knife laceration on his arm. The punctured lung needs time to heal completely as well. Yes, ma'am, we'll coordinate with HPD if we need extra manpower in the field."

"He'll be a while," Kono said, leading Jax into her office. "Make yourself comfy. My office is the smallest but I got the best chairs."

Jax settled into the chair gratefully as Kono tidied up her desk, brushing crumbs into the wastebasket.

"So, you're staying at Steve's?" Kono asked, frowning at a mysterious stain on a folder.

"For now," Jax answered. "If the job with HPD comes through, I'll look for my own place as soon as possible." She was gripped with a sudden anxiety. "Do you think it's weird?"

"What, you staying with Steve? Nah," Kono assured her. "You came in injured, went undercover; Danny's not here – besides, we never would have let you stay with him, his place is crap. My place is tiny; Chin and Malia are like bunnies in heat, no one would wish that on you. It was perfectly logical. Once you get settled, you can get a place. My lease is up soon, maybe we could even get a place together."

"I just don't want people to think . . . " Jax hesitated. "I mean, I put Danny's name as a reference on my job application. I don't want people to think that I'm getting special treatment because of . . . well, because of anything else."

"You mean, the fact that Steve is completely pupule over you?" Kono smirked.

Jax looked at her blankly. "I'm going to have to learn a lot of new vocabulary, aren't I?"

Kono laughed, her eyes sparking. "Yes, and I will have so much fun teaching you. Steve's crazy about you, Jax, it's completely obvious and obnoxious and honestly, we couldn't be happier about it. I think you took five years off his life diving in after Danny. I know he sounded all 'SEAL team leader' to you, but we could see it on his face."

"He was worried about Danny, too," Jax pointed out.

"We were all worried about both of you. I can't believe your guys dropped you on your head."

Steve heard the peals of laughter from his office as he hung up with the governor.

()()()()()()()()

Jax was quiet and pensive by the time she and Steve pulled into his driveway.

"Do not try to get out yourself – it's a long way down with a broken rib," Steve instructed, as he got out of the Silverado. He reached in and easily scooped Jax out of her seat and set her feet gently on the ground. Honestly, he would have preferred to just carry her to the door, but he figured that would be pushing it. Especially right now, she seemed to be in a . . . mood of some sort.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

Okay, so not mad then. Sad? Homesick? His eyes followed her as she walked slowly up the sidewalk and onto the front porch. With a few long strides, he caught up to her in time to unlock and open the door. She trailed through the house a little uncertainly.

"I'm going to go get cleaned up," she said. "Long flight."

He nodded. "Coffee?"

Ah, that got him a small smile, at least.

He did what any grown-ass, mature, highly decorated SEAL would do in this situation. He grabbed his phone and thumbed the icon to text Danny.

()()()()()()()()

Danny stirred as his phone vibrated. His sister had thoughtfully charged it and put it within easy reach.

_Danny. Something's wrong with Jax._

_Is she sick? Hospital?_

_No. She's_

Danny waited . . .

_Quiet. Very quiet._

Oh, well, sure. No wonder Steve was alarmed.

Danny started typing, his goofy thumbs even more uncooperative than usual.

_Did she threaten to cut off your balls?_

_NO_

_Okay, she's not mad then._

_Danny. I'm serious._

_So am I. Okay, is she having flashbacks? In pain?_

_Meds let her sleep. I'll ask about pain. Don't think that's it._

_Try asking her if she's okay? See if she needs to talk?_

_Oh. Yeah. Good idea. Thanks man._

_Seriously? You Neanderthal._

_What?_

_Nothing. You better name your first kid after me._

()()()()()()()()

Jax's phone pinged as she came back into the guest room from the shower.

_Hey, babe._

She winced as she tried to hold the phone with both hands to type; gave up, laid the phone down, and poked at the screen with her left index finger.

_Hey Danno. U ok_

_I'm fine. Good drugs. How was flight?_

_First class. Not bad. Good drugs. Steve. Pillows._

_?!_

_Shut up_

_You have Steve worried. What's wrong?_

Danny waited patiently. Of the many things that were horribly wrong in Jax's life right now, he wondered which had thrown her off her usual confident stride.

_It's over._

_What's over, babe?_

_Everything. NYPD. O'Neil. New York._

_Second thoughts?_

_No. Danny?_

_Yeah sweetie I'm here._

_Hurry home._

_I'll do my best. Go talk to Steve. Use your words._

_He's gonna be tired of my shit._

_Babe, he's not. Besides, he's full of shit, too._

_Danny._

_I'm serious. Steve and I talk about stuff. It helps._

_Okay._

_Also, drugs kicking in. I might reveal deep dark secrets._

_As if._

_Love you, goof. Ask Steve about Strawberry Fields._

_Love you Danny. ?_

()()()()()()()()

Jax smiled at the handful of Steve's old t-shirts in the guest room. She hesitated, feeling a little self-conscious in putting one on, but realized he'd left them on purpose. For her. She picked one up and held it to her face, the soft, worn cotton comforting on her skin. The now-familiar smell of his detergent, of Hawaii, of _Steve_ , soothed her frayed nerves a bit. She gingerly pulled the t-shirt over her head, trying not to aggravate her shoulder and wrist any more than necessary. Slipping on her most comfortable pair of gym shorts, she caught a glance of herself in the mirror.

 _You look like crap, girl,_ she thought to herself. She grabbed a comb and realized there was no way her sprained wrist and shoulder was up for wrestling it through her unruly curls. Left hand fingers would have to do yet again. She made a cursory effort, then shook her head and shrugged at the results and went off in search of the promised coffee.

Steve looked up when she padded into the kitchen, and smiled at the sight of her in his t-shirt. He knew it was cliché, but damn if he didn't like seeing her in his clothes. He poured a cup of coffee for her and frowned as she reached for it with her right arm and winced in pain. Her wrist was purple and swollen.

"That needs to be rewrapped," he said, as she took the coffee with her other hand. He grabbed the kit from the cabinet and pulled out an elastic bandage.

She reluctantly sat down and held her arm out toward him.

"I'm sure you're getting sick of this," she said.

"Of what?"

"Patching me up."

"I don't like seeing you hurt, but I'm definitely not sick of patching you up. I'll do it as often as you need me, as long as you need me – though I hope that we're done with injuries for the time being. You've had more than your share. Where's the sling?"

Jax pulled a face. "I can't stand it any longer. As long as I'm not going to have to run for my life or cover you in a fire fight, I think I can skip it."

"If Danny were here, he would say that was not a safe bet," Steve said, grinning.

Jax was suddenly silent, the uncharacteristic quiet that had concerned him earlier falling over her again. He looked down and saw that she was biting her lip in uncertainty again. Cradling her head in his hands, he rubbed his thumb gently over her lip.

"Hey, what's wrong? What is it?" he asked.

"We almost lost Danny," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"But we didn't," he said firmly.

"Can I do this? Do you think I'm cut out for SWAT?" she asked.

"Absolutely. Jax, you didn't hesitate, not for one second. Within minutes of Danny being taken hostage, you were demanding boots and gearing up. You saved his life; arguably in a position when no one else would have been able to."

"Then why does everything feel so . . . awful?"

"Because it wasn't just an op. It was personal. So all of the adrenaline crash that you feel after a crisis situation is exponentially increased. It's awful, yes, after the fact. But do I think you're cut out for SWAT? I'd put you on my team or choose you for back-up any day of the week. There's not a doubt in my mind. Or in Grover's."

She looked at him dubiously, but didn't argue.

He had an idea. "Come on, the sun is just setting. Let's go sit by the water, that always helps me."

Jax perked up, grabbed her coffee, and headed out after him.

"Better?" Steve smiled at her as she settled into the chair.

"Yeah, better," she said, smiling. It was a sad, wistful smile, though, that didn't quite reach her eyes. Steve reached out and brushed his fingers through her curls, stroked his thumb across the faded bruise on her cheekbone.

"Jax," he said, "talk to me. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Use my words?" she said, grinning. "Danny has been shrinking us, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, he tends to do that. One of the three of us has to be good at this whole talking thing, I guess. But, I have to admit – don't tell Danny – it helps sometimes."

Jax was silent for a moment, rubbing her thumb over the edge of her coffee mug and looking out over the water. Steve was right, being by the water helped. It was soothing, and grounding. The silence was comfortable and she found herself relaxing.

"I thought it would feel . . . different."

"What would feel different?"

"Taking out O'Neil. I thought it would feel like . . . revenge. Or justice. Or even just relief, because he was going to kill Danny."

"And it doesn't?"

"No. It doesn't. It just feels . . . I feel numb."

"Jax, it was a good shot. You did what you absolutely had to do in order to save Danny, and save yourself. But yeah, it can take a while for you to process all of that. You've been on the force for over ten years; you've had to take hostiles out before, right?"

"Once I was tac medic trained, I wasn't usually the one doing the shooting. But yeah, I've had to take the shot before. This time was just . . . it was closer. It was a lot closer."

Steve thought of the blood matted in Jax's curls. He reached out and gently ran his hand through her hair. He didn't think he would ever get tired of how her curls felt tangled around his fingers.

"The night before the hearing, when I got your text . . . I thought when the hearing was over, I would feel finished, ready to move on. The way things ended . . . I'm glad I didn't have to go to that stupid arraignment for civil charges. How sick is that? Once I knew Danny was okay . . . that was the first thing I thought of. That I didn't have to go back to court. What kind of person . . . I killed him, Steve, and I was glad that I didn't have to –" she broke off.

Steve stared at her, dumbfounded. _Survivor's guilt?_

"Jax, you can't – you can't do this to yourself, okay? O'Neil . . ." He broke off. He wanted to say that he wished it had been him that had taken that shot, because he damn sure would have not had any regrets, not after what he had done to Jax, to Danny. "He sealed his fate when he took Danny, at gun point, into that elevator. If you hadn't taken the shot, he would have killed Danny, and then they would have blown the elevator. Either way, O'Neil was dead. When you took the shot, you saved Danny." Steve slipped from his chair and kneeled in front of Jax, gently cupping her cheek and looking into her eyes. "You brought our boy out, Jax. But listen, the day it doesn't bother you to take another life – that's the day you're not cut out for this anymore, okay? It's okay that it bothers you. After all, the bulk of your training is invested in saving lives. That's what makes you who you are."

Jax nodded slowly, comprehension reflected in her eyes, as she reached out delicate fingers and traced over the almost healed cut over Steve's eyebrow.

"I left Billy behind. When I left New York, I left Billy."

She said it so quietly, as if saying it out loud would make it finally, horribly, completely true.

"Oh, Jax," Steve whispered. There wasn't anything he could say. Instead, he reached out his hand and gently took her good hand in his, and pulled her up from her chair. He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head against his shoulder, dropping a kiss into her curls.

"Come with me," he said quietly, holding her hand and leading her into the house.

He placed their coffee mugs on the counter in the kitchen, and continued into the living room. He stopped directly on the spot where his father was shot.

"I heard the shot," he said quietly. "That was in the report; Danny knew that. I never told anyone, Hesse had put it on speaker phone. I could hear the sound of my father's body hitting the floor. I knew, beyond a doubt, that there was no hope."

He paused, brushing a hand across his eyes, then reaching down and pulling Jax gently against him. She leaned her head against his chest and wrapped her good arm loosely around his waist. He traced his fingers absentmindedly through her curls as he continued.

"When I got home, there was still crime scene tape up. Everything except my father's body was exactly as it had been left, because they were still processing the scene. I compartmentalized . . . I was so focused on finding Hesse that I didn't stop to let myself see the blood as my dad's, you know? It was just prints, and spatter, I was looking for clues, for leads. Later, when they finished processing the scene, they sent a crew over to clean up."

Jax tightened her arm around him.

"I didn't want them to clean. How crazy is that, hunh? I knew I had to let them, but I couldn't . . . I left the house, went swimming to clear my head. Lost track of time and swam so far that I damn near killed myself trying to make the swim back. I stood outside on the lanai, like an idiot, couldn't bring myself to go back in the house. Danny showed up," Steve smiled at the memory, "and didn't ask, didn't push. He just bulldozed his way around the backyard, with a cold six pack and a bottle of Jack. Took one look at me, pronounced that I looked like shit, shoved me in a chair, and got me drunk. I managed to get back in the house in a few hours, because I wanted to puke in my own toilet."

Jax laughed. "That is such a Danny move."

"Yeah, it is. He got it. I think now . . . I think he got it because of 9/11. Because the people you lost that day . . . "

"Became literally part of the city," Jax said quietly. "All the ash . . . in the hospital, when we were putting all the information together, we realized Billy was in the second tower when it fell. I yelled and screamed at the nurses, made them bring me my clothes . . . I had ash all over me from when the tower fell, and all I could think was that it was Billy's ashes, and that it was all I would ever have of his remains. I wasn't rational . . . those poor nurses. But they understood. Everyone who was there that day understands. Very few other people do. You do."

Steve gently turned her face up to his. "Yeah, I do."

"For all these years, when I missed Billy . . . I could go down to Ground Zero, walk around. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I would just sit down on the sidewalk, you know? It was where I felt close to him. I don't want to stay in New York but I . . . I don't want to leave him," she said, her voice breaking.

"Oh, sweetheart, you aren't leaving him. You know he would want you to be with people who love you and care for you. He would be happy for you, I'm sure of it. He would be so proud of you. His baby sister, on SWAT."

Jax laughed softly. "Oh, Steve, God bless you. You are definitely not from New York. You know FDNY and NYPD are mortal enemies, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Well, I promise you that he would still have been so proud of you. Maybe not willing to be seen with you in public, but proud," Steve smiled down at her.

Jax forgot for a split second that her shoulder was still wrecked, and started to wrap her arms up around Steve's neck. She hissed in pain and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Steve gently wrapped one hand around her shoulder to stabilize it, and rubbed his thumb gently over her lip.

"Easy, easy," he murmured. He once again glanced at the bruising still around her neck and once again kissed her gently on the cheek.

"Why do you do that?" Jax whispered. "Oh, my God . . . it's because . . . I'm all marked up with his handprints . . . " her voice faltered and she wrenched herself out of Steve's gentle grip.

 _You're an idiot. A jackass. FIX IT,_ Steve's brain demanded.

"Jax, no," he said, reaching for her good arm. She startled and flinched.

 _You're making it worse. Now you're an asshole,_ his brain helpfully supplied.

"Jax, please stop," he pleaded. "Look at me, please."

She turned and looked up at him, hurt and confusion playing across her features. He cautiously stepped closer to her, relieved when she didn't bolt. He risked putting a hand into her curls and rubbing his thumb across her cheekbone.

"I promised Danny that I wouldn't . . . you know. Until you'd had time to heal; to recover from . . . everything. You are one of the strongest people I've ever met, but you're only human. And you can't possibly have had time to really process and recover from everything you've been through. And I can't be the jackass that takes advantage of that. So, I promised Danny that at the very least, I'd keep a certain . . . distance, until you've at least had time to recover from the bruising. And stuff." Steve self-consciously rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Danny was right, he was shit at this.

"Danny?" Jax asked suspiciously. "Over-protective, over-reacting, ranting, fatherly instincts Danny?"

"Yeah. When you put it that way . . . "

"Okay, you're both Neanderthal idiots."

"We are," Steve nodded in agreement.

"And it's very sweet."

Steve sighed in relief.

"And it's probably wise."

He nodded again. _You're on a roll. Don't speak. That's better. Not speaking is better,_ his brain concurred.

"And it's also damn frustrating," Jax grinned up at him, a wicked glint in her eye.

Steve groaned. "Damn frustrating," he agreed, pulling her close to him. He kissed her cheek again, and spoke low into her ear. "But smart, because once I really kiss you, I'm sure as hell not gonna want to stop."


	12. Chapter 12

**Saturday**

When he heard the crash, he went into autopilot, and was halfway down the stairs, Sig in hand, before he was even awake. By the time he reached the bottom step, he realized it was probably just Jax in the kitchen. He thumbed the safety back on and glanced over to the recliner – sure enough, it was empty.

"Jax?" he called out quietly, just to be sure, as he walked into the kitchen.

"Yes," came the frustrated response. "Sorry, I probably scared the shit –" she broke off as she turned to look at him.

_Well, HELLO. Ink, those ridiculous abs, Sig . . . damn Danny and his sensible ideas. I never promised to show any kind of restraint._

"You okay?" he asked, placing his gun safely with his badge and cell phone in his locked desk drawer; something he'd started when Gracie became part of his life. She was the daughter of a cop, so she knew gun safety, but still, there was no such thing as too careful. He grabbed a broom and dustpan from the closet.

"Yes," she replied, "for goodness' sake watch where you step. I grabbed a glass with my stupid bad hand and didn't get a good grip."

"Don't worry about it," he said, easily sweeping up the shards of glass.

Jax grabbed a rag and dampened it slightly. "Here, gimme," she said, when he was done with the broom. She used the broom to push the damp rag around the floor; a bit awkwardly, with her left hand, but Steve resisted the urge to do it for her. "Gets up the tiny slivers," she explained.

He flipped on the coffee maker and pulled down two mugs, and filled a glass of water and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, carefully taking the glass in her good hand. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Nah, it's almost six-thirty," he said. "I'd have been up in a few minutes to swim. Why are you up so early?"

"This amazing concept – uninterrupted, relatively pain-free sleep. It's a whole thing, who knew?" she quipped. "I just didn't need to sleep any more."

The coffee maker beeped its happy news that the coffee was ready, and Jax poured into the two mugs. "I'm going to be ambidextrous by the time this is over," she muttered, handing one off to Steve.

She took a sip of her coffee and sighed happily.

 _Damn Danny and his sensible ideas,_ his brain grumbled, as he looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. Once again, she stood in his kitchen in one of his old t-shirts, hanging to the bottom of her gym shorts; hair in crazy, sexy waves over the side of her face.

She blushed a bit under his scrutiny, but then boldly raked her gaze over his tattoos and winked at him over the rim of her coffee cup, the wicked glint back in her eye.

"How's your shoulder?" he managed to croak out.

"A little locked up," she replied.

"You should sit in the sun, that will help," he said, putting down his mug. "I need to go swim."

 _In the cold, cold water,_ his brain added.

When he came out of the water almost an hour later, Jax was curled in one of the chairs. She'd grabbed the latest copy of _Guns and Ammo_ from his office, and snagged an old blanket from the lanai. She was curled up, reading, coffee in hand.

"Did you know the Navy is replacing the P226 with the Glock 19?" she asked, squinting up at him.

 _You could get back in the cold water,_ his brain suggested.

"Yeah, I heard," he sighed. "Hey, what's with the blanket?"

"I'm a little cold," Jax said. "Weird, hunh?"

"Yeah," Steve frowned, concerned. "Oh, wait . . . you've lost about ten pounds, right?"

"Twelve, yeah," she said.

"That's at least ten percent of your body weight. That's why you're cold. I was thinking of asking Chin, Malia, and Kono to come over later, if that's okay, and Malia can check on you, make sure you're healing up."

"No cuts, no stitches, no infections," Jax asserted, "bumps and bruises healing up quickly. Good rest, sunshine . . . very quickly. Healing up. Yep."

And there was that wicked glint in her eye again.

Steve groaned, wrapped his towel around his waist, and headed to the house, shaking his head and muttering curses at Danny.

()()()()()()()()

Chin, Malia, and Kono arrived in the late afternoon, to take advantage of the rare day off and the sunshine for a while before Steve grilled steaks.

Malia hugged Jax gently as she came inside. "Aloha, Jax. Steve is fretting and insisting that I check and make sure you're okay."

Jax rolled her eyes but good naturedly trailed down the hall to the guest room with Malia.

"I also brought some swimwear for you," Malia said. "I thought maybe being closer to your height; I could eyeball it for you better than Kono."

"I have never felt so short in all my life as yesterday, with just Steve and Kono at the office," Jax complained.

Malia smiled and nodded as she gently pressed her fingers against Jax's collarbone and shoulder. "Well, the collarbone fracture seems to be healing, but having dislocated your shoulder twice in succession, the tendons are really unstable. You know you should be wearing the sling, but I won't bother to nag you. It never works for Steve. Just please, please be careful. How are you sleeping?"

"In the recliner," Jax answered. "It keeps me from rolling over, which is pretty brutal."

"That's a good idea," Malia said, carefully unwrapping Jax's wrist and gently probing the swollen joint. "This is a bad sprain . . . did they x-ray it?"

"Yeah, said it wasn't broken," Jax answered. "It's feeling better than it was. Oh, and they started me on a pain management protocol that actually lets me sleep without making flashbacks worse . . . I think Steve has the paperwork."

"Excellent," Malia said, pressing her hand gently along Jax's ribcage. Jax hissed in pain as she encountered the fractured rib. "Oh, you broke this one all the way through this time," Malia commiserated. "Well, nothing for it but rest; again, please be careful. No surfing. No shoot outs. And definitely no trying to keep up with these yahoos."

"Okay," Jax said glumly. "I have a job interview with HPD SWAT on Monday. How long before I should be able to be on active duty? I don't want to screw up my chances."

"I would say four more weeks, minimum, and that's if you behave yourself. But I'm sure that they will assign you desk duty in the meantime."

Jax sighed in frustration.

"Look, it's Saturday, and no one's working today, so let's just enjoy the afternoon and let Monday worry about Monday, okay?" Malia suggested, cheerfully handing Jax the bag she'd brought with her. "Try these on for size, and join us outside. You're going to heal up faster in the fresh air and sunshine, and you'll be back to full speed soon, I promise."

()()()()()()()()

Jax wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror. Malia had great taste, and had thoughtfully selected an assortment of swimwear in shades that were flattering to Jax's fair skin and red hair. Jax was relieved that Malia had chosen short board shorts and athletic bikini tops, nothing too skimpy; no doubt in sensitivity to the bruising that only Malia had seen, and that she certainly wasn't ready to reveal to anyone else on the team. However, the spectacular bruising on her collarbone, ribs, and lower back would still be evident. There was no shade of swimwear that particularly complemented 'late stage healing from violent assault'.

Deciding that she was as presentable as she was going to get, Jax sprayed herself liberally with the sunscreen that Malia had graciously included, grabbed a towel, and headed toward the sound of the others on the lanai.

"Nicely done, Malia," Chin said, as Jax tentatively stepped out the back door.

Malia smiled in delight at the results of her shopping trip.

Chin kissed Jax on the cheek and handed her a Longboard. "Jax, aloha, and mahalo for keeping Danny safe. We owe you."

Kono and Steve came around the corner onto the lanai, arguing about the scope on the team's sniper rifle.

"But if you calibrate the – " he stopped short and stared at Jax, blinking a bit owlishly.

_Holy shit. Nope, still bruised. Promised Danny. Stupid Danny. We hate him, right? No, Danny's a good guy. Good friend. Stupid good guy Danny._

"Jax!" Kono greeted her warmly and gave her a gentle hug. "You look fantastic. Do you have on sunscreen?"

"Yep," Jax affirmed.

"Cool, let's get in the water," Kono said, gently taking Jax's good hand, "and give Steve a minute to put his eyes back in his head and find his grown up words again."

"Be careful," Malia reminded. "Kono, you absolutely can not try to teach her to surf today."

Kono waved over her shoulder at Malia and pulled a willing Jax toward the water.

"Thank you," Jax said, as they walked away.

"For what?" Kono asked.

"For not treating me like I'm about to break into a million pieces."

"Oh, yeah, they tend to be a little overprotective. But seriously, those bruises . . . you do look pretty axed. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. The cracked rib and collarbone are hurting a little more than I'm really admitting to Steve and Malia, though. It's a trade off – pain relief or beer. Today, I choose beer."

As the two waded into the water, Kono caught sight of the fresh scar on Jax's hip. "Ow," she said, tracing her fingers over it. "Oh, sorry," she said, pulling her hand back quickly. "That was probably very rude."

"Nah, it's okay," Jax said. "I understand, in our line of work, there's a certain dark fascination with wounds," she laughed.

"Oh, definitely," Kono said. "And these?" she asked, gently touching the scars on Jax's sides. "These look much older."

"Yeah, those are from 9/11", Jax explained. "Falling piece of rebar."

"Wicked," Kono said. She pointed to a scar on her own side. "Perp with a knife."

Jax ran her fingers over it. "They must have called plastics for this one."

"Yeah, I was a pro surfer before HPD; I still compete in exhibition tournaments," Kono shrugged. "They tried to minimize the scarring."

"Bikini's aren't much of a consideration in NYPD," Jax said. "I made sure plastics got called for Danny, though. I figured Gracie didn't need to be any more upset than she already would be."

Steve stood watching Kono and Jax examine each others' scars from a distance on the lanai, his head tilted to the side just a bit, and a strange, strangled expression on his face.

"Close your mouth, Steve," Malia teased gently.

"You know what this means, brah?" Chin said.

Steve shook his head mutely.

"We are _never_ going to be able to take the two of them to a public beach," Chin said a little sadly.

()()()()()()()()

As the evening wore on and the sun set, the air cooled enough to enjoy a bonfire. Steve noticed that Jax was shivering despite the added layers of her gym shorts and one of his t-shirts. He jogged easily into the house, and flipped on the coffee maker to brew while he grabbed a zip up hoodie and the light blanket that she had used that morning.

Returning to the group, he handed Jax the coffee and then gently placed the hoodie around her shoulders and tucked the blanket around her legs. He sat down behind her and gently eased her back to lean against him. She nestled her head against his shoulder and hummed contentedly as he ran his fingers through her curls, glowing red in the firelight.

This was the first that he had seen her truly relaxed. She bantered easily with Chin, chatted comfortably with Malia, and shared Kono's wicked sense of humor.

"Starting to feel more like home?" Steve asked quietly, tucking her curls behind her ear.

"Yeah," she said tiredly. "Just need Danny back and we'll be all set."

"Ah," Steve said, pulling out his cell phone. He snapped a shot of himself and Jax, her head resting on his shoulder, coffee in hand, looking tired but content, and sent it off to Danny.

_Miss you, bud. Hurry home._

A few minutes later he got a return text.

_Schmuck._

()()()()()()()()

Chin, Malia, and Kono left after helping clean up. Malia rewrapped Jax's wrist and looked over the pain management protocol that Steve had brought back from New York.

"This looks like an excellent plan," she said. "Just remember drugs and alcohol don't mix. She won't be able to take these meds tonight."

As Steve closed the door with a final goodnight, he turned back to Jax. "Did you have a good evening?" he asked, smiling down at her.

"The best," she replied. "I haven't had an evening like that since . . . well, since Danny left New York. I'm glad to know your life isn't all murder and mayhem."

"We get a break once in a while. Sleepy?" he asked.

"Nope," she said. "Tired, but not sleepy."

"Movie?" he suggested.

"Die Hard?" she asked.

"Hell yeah, which one?"

"Surprise me."

By the ending credits, Jax's face was pale with pain and her breathing was shallow.

"Still worth the beers?" Steve teased gently.

"Ask me tomorrow," she groaned.

"Ouch. Okay, I know you can at least have Motrin and ice packs, let's get you set up."

Jax grabbed Steve's outstretched hand, pulled herself up off the sofa, and padded down to the guest bathroom. As she brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face, she could hear Steve puttering around in the kitchen. She checked out the bruising on her neck and then shook her head at herself. Since Danny wasn't there to call her a big goof, she did it for him.

When she returned to the living room, Steve had dimmed the lights and tossed the soft flannel sheet onto the recliner.

"You're spoiling me," she said, "I could do that easily."

"I know," he shrugged, "but with Danny still recovering in New York, it's my turn to fuss a little bit. Here, Motrin and water – no more beer for you, young lady." Steve waited until she had tossed back the tablets and settled into the recliner, then snagged two pillows to prop up her injured arm and wrist. He expertly popped two instant icepacks, and put one on her shoulder and one on her wrist, his warm fingers brushing against her skin.

Jax shivered. _From the ice, totally from the ice._

"Thanks," she said. "Beers were worth it, but I'm sorry it's caused you extra trouble."

Steve ran his fingers through her curls. "Nah, no worries. Worth it."

Jax was surprised when Steve grabbed a large cushion and settled on the floor next to her, leaning his head against her knees and loosely wrapping his arm around her legs.

"Thought we would watch the sequel while you fall asleep, since you don't have your meds tonight," Steve said. "This okay?" he asked, his thumb idly rubbing circles around her ankle.

"More than okay," she confirmed, letting her fingers drift into his hair.

When Jax woke up a few hours later, her ice packs had been collected and a soft blanket tucked around her. She could see Steve asleep on the sofa in the faint light of the TV.

()()()()()()()()

**Sunday**

The next morning, Jax woke up to the sound of Steve puttering around quietly in the kitchen. She hauled herself out of the recliner and off to the guest bathroom, moving stiffly. Deciding that there was no hope for her hair without shampoo and conditioner, she started a shower. The hot water felt wonderful on her shoulder and she lost track of time until she heard a knock on the door.

"Jax?" Steve called in. "Are you okay?"

She turned off the water and grabbed a towel. "Yes, sorry. The water felt good on my shoulder. I'll be right out."

She awkwardly toweled off her hair with her left hand, and once again had to settle for combing through her curls with her fingers.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to rush you," Steve said, as she came into the kitchen. "Hey, look at you," he said, taking note of her lightweight cargo pants and simple tank.

"I decided that in honor of no longer being concussed, stitched, or required to be in court, I would wear actual civilian clothes – not gym shorts, a hospital gown, or my dress blues," she joked. "I'm starting to feel human again."

"Good sleep will do that for you," Steve nodded, as he poured coffee for them both.

Jax gratefully sighed into her coffee, causing Steve to choke just a bit on his.

"What?" she said, suspiciously. "And speaking of good sleep, you didn't have to stay on the sofa."

"Nothing," he croaked, clearing his throat. "And I just wanted to be sure . . . your first night without the new meds. What should we do today?"

"Well, I was thinking, I know I can't shoot with my right hand, not for a while yet. But maybe we could go back to the range? I could practice more with my left."

 _Brilliant. Incredible. Hell yeah, coffee and guns. Screw Danny and his ideas,_ Steve's brain offered.

"You okay?" Jax asked.

"Yeah, just wondering if you would be able to, um, rack the slide," Steve said, his throat feeling a bit constricted. He took another sip of coffee.

Jax flexed the fingers on her right hand. "I think I'll be able to. Could we splint my wrist, maybe?"

Steve looked at her dubiously. "Yeah, I can . . . not sure Malia would approve. You're absolutely positively sure it isn't fractured?"

"We don't have to tell Malia, and yes, they x-rayed it twice. Just sprained."

Steve grinned. "Well, in that case . . ."

()()()()()()()()

They pulled into the parking lot of the Palace.

"I'll be right back – I thought of the perfect backup for you to try, should be great for shooting with your non-dominant hand," Steve said, as he slid out of the Silverado and strode toward the door. Jax took a moment to admire the view. She wondered how many people knew that the man who projected such confidence and authority could be equally tender and compassionate.

Shaking her head at herself, she pulled out her phone and awkwardly texted Danny.

_Hey Danno how r u?_

_Babe! I'm out of the hospital. At your apartment. It's worse than mine._

_It waz cheap and I wasnt ther mush_

_Jax. Are you drunk?_

_No I hav spraned writs. Ass._

_Ah, yes. Sorry._

_Are you ok? Infection? Respirations?_

_No infections, breathing ok as long as I don't do stairs._

_My apartment hastairs_

_Exactly. But it's okay I just have to go slow._

_Thank you Danny. An yout sister._

_No problem, babe. Enjoy the bonfire last night?_

_YES. Kono is nicest friend since Grace. Knife wpund. 27 stitcjes. Plastics did amazing job because bimini. Hawaii. You know._

_Um, wow. Okay._

_Glad I called postics for you Danny._

_You did good, Jax. Thank you. What are you doing today?_

_SHOTTING._

_?_

_SHOOTING. Dang thunbs. Steve wnet to get low pressure trigger pill for me to trh. Left hamd._

_Back to the range?_

_Yes finally feeling normal again._

_Good, babe, that's good._

_You home soon?_

_Yes, end of this week._

_Good. Have to kick your ass._

_WHY? Wtf?_

_You and Steve agreed "distance". Overprotctibe jackass._

_You know I'm right. Steve knows I'm right. I'm right._

_Yeah, yeah. Jackass. Love you._

_Love you too, babe. Behave yourself. Take it easy on poor Steve. The man can only take so many cold showers and long swims._

_REALLY? That's what all the swinning is about. Nice._

_Oh, dear Lord, you are feeling better. I never warned Steve about this side of you._

_Whaa? Oh here he cobes. Byy danno._

"Danny says hello," Jax said, slipping her phone back into her backpack.

"How is he?"

"Doing much better. He is apparently supervising his sister packing up my apartment. I can't believe she was willing to do that for me."

"I'm sure she's glad to have something to entertain Danny. Can you imagine a week of injured Danny?"

"Yes, quite easily," Jax smirked. "Did he ever tell you about the time he got caught in crossfire, and a bullet grazed his ass? He couldn't sit for several weeks. Desk duty. Standing up. Grace and I flipped a coin each shift to see who had to babysit him."

 _There it is again, that amazing laugh,_ Jax thought. _Danny's right; there needs to be more laughing to balance out all the sadness._

()()()()()()()()

"So, what am I shooting?" Jax asked, as Steve laid out several options on the table in front of them.

"You are shooting a Taurus 1911 nine millimeter," he answered, handing her the weapon.

She hefted it in her left hand. "Decent weight," she observed. "Less recoil."

"Exactly. And relatively low trigger pressure. I want you to try it out, see what you think. It might make a good back-up for you. You could holster it to draw left-handed, and continue to practice with your left at the range, even after your wrist heals."

"Sounds like a plan," Jax said. "Can you splint my wrist for me? I can't do it very well left-handed. I brought the stuff." She rummaged in her bag and produced a heavy elastic bandage and a plastic formed wrist splint.

"You just happened to have one of these?" Steve said.

"Nah, they issued it to me at the ER in New York. I just haven't wanted to be that immobilized. But it will be worth it to be able to shoot. If you get it tight enough, I should be able to grip with my fingers without jacking my wrist up."

Steve expertly wound the bandage around the splint. He pressed her fingernail to check for good blood flow. "Okay, this should do it," he said. "But if your wrist swells, it's going to cut off circulation. Pay attention, let me know if we need to adjust it."

An hour later, Jax had declared the Taurus 1911 the perfect back-up indeed.

"I can issue you one from the armory, once you're with HPD," Steve offered.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, it's not a problem. The task force is intended to complement HPD."

"Well, I don't know if I'll get the job," Jax said quietly, biting at her lower lip.

 _Danny. Promised Danny. Stupid Danny._ Great. His brain seemed to have a new one-celled approach to thought.

"Hey, why wouldn't you?" Steve said, gently taking her injured wrist in his hands, and checking for swelling.

"I'll have to be on desk duty for at least four weeks," she said despondently. "Who would hire someone who can't even function for a month?"

"Grover will have no problem with that," Steve said confidently. "Don't forget – he's seen you in action, Jax. We watched the whole thing; your Sergeant Mitchell patched us in to the live feed."

Jax was very quiet, and suddenly very engaged in examining a loose thread on the bandage.

"The whole thing?" she said quietly, not looking up.

 _Shit. Shit shit shit. Abort. Redirect._ Steve's brain sent out rapid fire orders.

"Yeah, Jax," he said, sighing. "I'm sorry. We – Mitchell said that you only heard bits and pieces."

"I heard all of it. I just couldn't – I had to focus, on getting to Danny. I couldn't allow myself to react or even think about what O'Neil was saying. But I heard it. Kinda wish you and the others hadn't . . ." she trailed off.

"Jax, look at me," Steve said, gently cupping her face and turning it up to meet his eyes. "Nothing, absolutely nothing, that bastard said affects how we think of you. We didn't even assume he was saying anything true. His goal was to torture Danny."

"It was pretty much all true," Jax whispered.

"Okay," Steve said simply, although hearing her acknowledge that O'Neil's description of the attack was accurate made his blood boil. "You know what else is true? You know what else we saw on that live feed? We saw you go in and take O'Neil out. It was a crazy shot, and when you caught his vest and came up injured, you kept your cool, switched off hands, and still saved Danny's life. That's what Grover saw. And Mitchell – he was so proud of you, Jax. He knew that his decision to put you on SWAT was totally justified."

"Good," Jax said, "makes it easier for the next female officer."

"There you go," Steve said, nodding. "So, I don't think you need to worry about the interview. You do, however, need to worry about the fact that your fingers are turning a little blue."

"Well, shit," Jax said, rapidly unwinding the bandage. "I guess maybe I'm done for the day."

()()()()()()()()

"This is absolutely amazing," Steve said, taking a bite of risotto. "I had no idea you could cook."

Jax shrugged. "My mom was a great cook. I picked up a lot when I was in junior high. When Billy lived at home, we had a pretty big meal every evening. He could really put away the food in high school."

"Well, this is incredible. Thank you," Steve said.

"Seriously? It's about time I did something useful around here. You've been waiting on me hand and foot, patching me up. I told you, that person limping and bleeding in your kitchen wasn't me."

Jax stopped cold. What if the person Steve _liked_ was that person limping and bleeding? What if that was his thing? He was a Navy SEAL after all; six plus feet of hero complex and muscle and ink . . .

"Jax?" Steve asked, "You okay?"

"Is that your thing?" she blurted out.

"Um . . . _what_?"

"The wounded. Damaged. Is that what the . . . chemistry is about?" _Words? Why are these words coming out of my mouth? Who said using words was a good idea? Danny? Stupid Danny._

"Whoa. Slow down." _Where is this coming from? Has she been talking to Danny?_ "No. I mean, yes. Both."

Jax looked at him skeptically.

_Pull your shit together, sailor. Make sense. Naval Intelligence, for crying out loud. Be intelligent._

"I'm hardwired to be protective, Jax. It's who I am. So yes, the fact that you've been injured . . . okay, call me Neanderthal or chauvinistic or whatever but it made me want to use my bare hands to kill the people who hurt you, and keep you safe from that minute on. But it's equally the fact that you dislocated my thumb and laid me out flat on my own lanai, both while less than fully conscious. And holy shit, the way you look when you're cleaning a gun . . . "

Jax threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, thank goodness," she said.

"So we're good?" Steve said cautiously.

"Oh, damn straight, we're good," Jax nodded enthusiastically.

"Good," Steve said, grinning.

()()()()()()()()


	13. Chapter 13

*Monday**

"Would you please stop pacing? You're making me dizzy," Steve complained good naturedly, as Jax made another round trip around the central computer in the squad room.

"Is it 9:45 yet?" she asked.

"No, just like it wasn't 9:45 five minutes ago when you asked," he said, smiling. "Relax. The interview is a formality."

Kono came into the squad room. "Morning, guys! Hey, Jax, you look sharp."

"Interview," Jax said tersely.

"She's nervous," Steve contributed.

"Nah, sistah, you got this. There's just one . . . " Kono trailed off, running her fingers through Jax's curls. "Steve, what comes to mind when you see this hair?"

Steve stared at Jax for a moment, then smirked at Kono. "According to that sexual harassment seminar Jameson made us attend a couple months ago? Pretty sure I'm not supposed to say that out loud in the workplace."

Kono rolled her eyes. "Okay, what's the second thing you think of?"

Steve studied Jax again, then turned back to Kono. "Yep, better not risk that, either."

"Okay, down boy, but you're proving my point. Jax, Grover has seen you in action but the other members of the review board may not have. You totally rock the sexy bed-head curls look, but I think for an interview . . . give me five minutes in the locker room?" Kono asked.

"Okay," Jax said, falling in behind her as Chin came out from his office.

"What's going on?" he asked Steve.

"I'm not sure. Kono has decided that something is wrong with Jax's hair for an interview. I have no idea what she's talking about," Steve shrugged.

"Yeah, the two of them together . . ." Chin shook his head.

"Yeah . . . " Steve said reverently.

Jax and Kono emerged from the locker room. Kono had tamed Jax's curls and her hair hung in shimmering waves, the longer section held back gently with a simple clip. Kono had also done something with makeup . . . there was no absolutely no evidence of bruising, and Jax's eyes sparkled even brighter with some sort of eyeliner.

Exquisite, Steve's brain offered. There was something new from the word-a-day calendar.

"Okay, now you're totally ready," Kono said. "Want me to drive you over?"

"That's okay," Steve interrupted quickly. "I've got it. I have some, ah, paperwork to take over to Grover anyway."

"Okay, have fun, kids," Chin said.

Steve's hand was gentle and warm on the small of Jax's back as they headed to the elevator.

"Forgetting something, Steve?" Kono said, all innocence.

"Hunh?"

"The paperwork you needed to take Grover?" Chin prompted.

"Oh, yeah," Steve grinned, and quickly backtracked to his office. He snagged a folder from his desk. "Thanks, got it," he said, catching back up to Jax.

"Good luck!" Kono called to Jax.

"Thanks, Kono – and thanks for the help," Jax said.

As the elevator doors closed, Chin looked at Kono. "Do you really think Grover needed the receipts from our monthly coffee service?"

"No way, brah," Kono laughed. "It's just too easy, isn't it?"

()()()()()()()()

Steve managed to keep his fingers out of Jax's hair until the elevator doors closed.

"I look like a dingus," she groused. "But definitely more professional. Kono's smart."

"You look amazing," Steve said, "but honestly, I'll take you with the crazy curls wearing my t-shirt in my kitchen."

Jax beamed at him. "Good, because this requires skills that I do not possess. Also, a working wrist." She scowled and waved her still-bandaged wrist a bit.

They arrived at HPD in plenty of time and checked in at the main lobby. "Listen, just be yourself. You're going to be just fine," Steve said, kissing her on the cheek as the receptionist called for her to follow her to Grover's office.

Steve settled in to a chair and pulled out his phone to text Danny.

_Danno – how's New York?_

_I am bored out of my mind._

_Thought you were with your sister packing up?_

_We finished in one day. A few pairs of cargo pants and a handful of NYPD and FDNY t-shirts._

_Wow. Low maintenance._

_I take it you find that appealing?_

_Hell yeah._

_Neanderthal._

_Hey, how are you feeling?_

_Much better. My nieces have taken excellent care of me._

_Talked to Rachel and Gracie?_

_Yeah, Rachel is a little berserk but she'll settle down. What have I missed?_

_No cases. Jax is interviewing with Grover right now._

_Yeah? Let me know how it goes. How's she feeling?_

_Seems to be doing well. New pain meds are good._

_No more nightmares?_

_Not for the last few nights._

_Excellent. Shoulder and bruises healing up? You took her shooting again?_

_Left hand only. Yes, bruises are healing. Slowly. Extremely slowly._

_Easy soldier._

_SAILOR, Danny._

_Schmuck._

Steve cleared out a handful of work and Reserves emails while he waited for Jax. The elevator dinged, and he looked up to see her exiting. She was trying to play it cool but the twinkle in her eye gave her away.

"Yeah?" Steve said, standing up.

"Yeah," she confirmed, breaking into a delighted smile, and pulling out a handful of HPD t-shirts from behind her back. "Even better, I can start right away. I'll be on desk duty but I can report tomorrow, do all the paperwork, the whole nine yards. They'll give me the time I need for physical therapy, so I'll be part time for a few weeks."

"You sure? You still have a few weeks of paid leave from NYPD. You sure you don't want to take an actual vacation, rest up, heal up completely, see the island?" Steve asked.

"Can you, Kono, Chin, and Danny take the time off too? Otherwise, no thanks. I have no desire to be that random tourist wandering the island. I'll see stuff eventually, and I have the ocean in my backyard. Your backyard," she corrected quickly. "Obviously, now that I'm gainfully employed, I'll get out of your way, find my own place."

"Okay, okay," Steve held his hands up in surrender. "Start the job tomorrow, by all means. I'm really, really happy for you, Jax." He hugged her gently and kissed the top of her head. "Let's call Kono and Chin, go celebrate at Kamekona's, what do you say?" He studiously ignored her comments about finding her own place. The idea left him feeling strangely bereft.

"Sounds great," she replied. "I'll text Danny on the way over."

_DANNO. Got the job with HPD SWAT. You're stuck with me._

_Jax, that's wonderful. When do you start._

_Tomorrow._

_WTF? You are on medical leave._

_Part time. Desk duty. Time off for PT. Chill, Danno._

_Steve says the new meds are doing a good job._

_Yes. Sleeping great, healing quickly. Heh heh. Hurry back I miss you._

_You miss tormenting me. You and Steve. Both schmucks._

_You love us and you miss us, Danny._

_This is true. Congratulations, babe. Proud of you._

_Thanks, Danny. Gotta go. At Kamekona's._

"Greetings, Commander," Kamekona called out. "You brought the pretty little haole back. Shoots, sistah, you are smokin' today."

"Thanks, Kamekona," Jax said, laughing. "Kono decided I needed to clean up nice for my job interview."

"Job interview, hunh? So you're not gonna be a tourist? You gonna stay here for good?"

"That's the plan, Kamekona," Jax said.

"Excellent, sistah. And I know this makes Steve very happy, right brah?"

"It does indeed, Kamekona," Steve said, his hand curving around Jax's hip, his fingers automatically drifting to trace over the knife scar.

"Howzit!" Kono called, as she and Chin came across the parking lot. "Congratulations, Jax."

"Ho'omaika'i 'ana, Jax," Chin said, as he hugged her gently. "Welcome to our island, and to our ohana. Oh, and also – Malia will have my head on a stick if I don't make sure to get you to your PT appointment this afternoon."

"But first, my Five-O friends, you have shrimp to enjoy," Kamekona said, bringing out a tray loaded with food. "And in celebration of the pretty little haole's new job, shave ice all around, on the house."

()()()()()()()()

"Thanks for driving me to physical therapy, Chin," Jax said. "I need to figure out a car, I guess. I used public transportation in New York."

"Honolulu actually has a very good public bus system," Chin offered. "We all have to have personal vehicles for Five-O, but as part of SWAT, you'll be riding in HPD vehicles."

"Really? That's fantastic. I don't have a Hawaii driver's license yet, either," Jax sighed. "There's a lot I haven't really figured out."

"No worries, Jax. It will all come together," Chin replied, as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

"This looks familiar," Jax said grimly.

"Yes, but we're going in a different wing. Malia is meeting us there, and her shift will be over, so she's offered to get you back to the Palace after, if that's okay."

"Okay, let's get this over with. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I'll be off desk duty."

()()()()()()()()

The team was standing around the central computer when Jax exited the elevator into the squad room a few hours later. Her arm was in a sling, a thick layer of bandage evident around her wrist. She clutched a white prescription bag in her good hand, her face was pale, and her gait was stiff. Steve was at her side in two long strides.

"Jax, you look like shit," he said, alarmed. "What happened?"

"Apparently, intensive physical therapy is . . . intense," she said wearily. "Malia kindly made sure my scrips were filled while I was at it, though. Do you have any cold packs around here?"

"We keep a constant supply," Kono said, grabbing a few from the cabinet.

"You okay to wait in my office a while?" asked Steve. "We just need to go over security detail for a speaking engagement for the governor, and then we can head out."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm perfectly fine. I don't intend to interrupt your work," Jax said, collapsing onto his sofa, and wincing in pain as the movement jostled her shoulder. "I'll be okay. I may have been a little over enthusiastic with the physical therapy."

Steve settled her on his sofa and gently placed the icepacks on her shoulder and wrist.

"I'm sorry you have to keep doing this," Jax said quietly.

"No way. You don't apologize. I'm sorry you're hurting. Need anything else? Want water, to go ahead and take the meds?"

Jax shook her head. "I don't want to start taking that stuff during the day. Motrin is fine for now."

Steve grabbed a bottle of water and tilted three tablets into Jax's hand. He ran his fingers through her hair again, smiling as his hand tangled in the curls which had returned in the humidity of the day. His thumb brushed across the rapidly fading bruise on her cheekbone.

Jax didn't miss the gesture. "Hey, the new shoulder and wrist injuries totally don't count, by the way," she said, grinning tiredly up at him.

()()()()()()()()

The evening passed quickly with dinner and more laundry for Jax. She tried not to think about how much she enjoyed the simple routines and how much she would eventually miss it. It was barely nine o'clock when Steve noticed that she was again pale with pain and fatigue.

"Hey, how about a nice round of meds and another installment of Die Hard?" he asked. "Somebody has a new job starting tomorrow."

"I'm sure it sounded like a good idea at the time," she groaned.

"I'm sure Grover would understand if you need to delay a little further," Steve offered.

"Nah, I'll go stir crazy," she replied. "I'll be fine. Good night's rest, I'll be ready to get started in the morning.

Steve smiled when he realized that Jax was sound asleep fifteen minutes into the movie. He brushed her curls out of her face and kissed her forehead before he headed up the stairs.

**Tuesday**

The next morning, Steve woke to the smell of coffee wafting into his room. After his customary three minute Navy shower, he headed down to the kitchen. He leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed, enjoying the sight of Jax bustling around fixing coffee. She was moving a bit slowly, and her wrist was still wrapped - not very well, he noticed - but she had ditched the sling. Her HPD t-shirt was tucked into her customary cargo pants, but her boots were still unlaced.

"What?" she said, amused, not even turning to look at him. "I hope you weren't trying to be all stealthy and shit, because if so, you totally failed."

"Nah, just enjoying watching you all . . . domesticated," he teased.

She flipped him off over her shoulder and poured two mugs of coffee.

"I am excited because I am starting a new job today," she said. "Shut up and drink your coffee."

Steve walked up behind her and reached around her to grab his coffee with one hand. He curved his other hand around her hip, in what was becoming a familiar gesture, his fingers brushing gently over the exact placement of the scar from the knife wound. It was still a little tender, and his touch was soothing. Jax sighed in contentment.

Steve cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee. "The HPD t-shirt is a good look on you," he said quietly into her ear, inhaling the scent of gunpowder and honeysuckle.

"Yeah? Like it better than the NYPD?" she asked, smiling up at him.

"Definitely. But not quite as much as the Annapolis," he said, smirking. He glanced down at her wrist, frowning. "Need a hand with this? It looks too loose."

"I'm not ambidextrous just yet; it's a pretty crap job," she admitted, holding out her arm for him to fix the bandage. He unwound it expertly into a neat roll, and then quickly and easily rewrapped her wrist. His strong fingers tucked the ends of the bandage in. Jax wiggled her fingers and pronounced the job perfect.

"How's the shoulder?" he asked, his large hand wrapping around the joint easily.

"Much better. I have some sort of tens treatment today, not PT. That will be on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. So today should be easier. Which is good, since I'm going to figure out the bus schedule so no one has to be bothered to give me a ride," she explained, wiping down the counter with her good hand.

"Whoa, are you sure that's a good idea?" Steve asked.

She turned to face him. "Steve," she said gently, "You have to let me figure these things out. Okay? I'm HPD SWAT. Before that I was, nearly, NYPD SWAT. Before that, NYPD, and before that, I was trained by none other than Detective Daniel Williams," she said, smiling. "I have to be independent. I can't stand the thought of being the helpless little sidekick."

He sighed, running his fingers through her curls. "You know I don't think of you as helpless, Jax. But you're right. I'll step back and give you as much space as you need."

"Hey, sailor, nobody said anything about space," she said, stepping close to him and tracing her fingers over the almost healed cut over his eyebrow. She hesitated, and then let her fingers drift down to trace over the edge of the tattoo showing under his shirt sleeve. "Just the bus schedule. The team has security detail today, right?"

"Umm," he answered.

_Umm? That's the best that the best of the Navy can come up with? She touches your ink and your brain turns to mush? Actually, yes. And now I'm talking to myself. Get a grip, Commander._

"Yeah," he tried again. _Oh, that's much more intelligent. Congratulations._

"Well, be safe," she said, finally, reluctantly, keeping her fingers to herself.

"Yeah, guess we better get on the road. You, um, need some help with those?" he said, indicating her untied boots.

"Nope, I got it," she said, propping one foot at a time and tying up the laces. Steve was sure that he saw her wince a bit, but he studiously ignored it.

"I'll drop you off at HPD?" he asked. "You'll let me do that much, right?"

She grinned. "Wouldn't miss a ride in the truck. And I'll get the bus back to the Palace after PT if that's okay? Hang around until you're ready to leave?"

"Perfect," he agreed.

Traffic was light and he was pulling up in front of HPD all too soon. He snapped a picture of her walking into the building and sent it to Danny.

_There goes your girl, Danny, one of HPD's finest. You should be proud, man. You trained her well._

()()()()()()()()

The governor's speaking engagement went off without a hitch. By the end of the day, Steve and Kono were both grumpy and ill-tempered.

"You two just hate office work and security details, don't you?" Chin asked, equal parts amused and frustrated with his team-mates. He realized that Danny provided a welcome and much-needed distraction on these days. His good-natured sparring with Steve helped alleviate the boredom.

"Hey, when is Danny getting back?" Kono asked. Chin smiled; she must have been thinking the same thing.

"He's planning on coming in on Thursday afternoon," Steve said. "He's doing even better than the doctors' anticipated. He'll be on light duty for a couple weeks, but I think he'll be home Thursday and back in the office Monday. He'll get to spend the weekend with Gracie."

"Sweet," Kono declared. "I miss him."

"Yeah, it's definitely not the same without him," Chin agreed.

They looked up as the elevator dinged and Jax entered.

"Howzit?" Kono asked. "Look at you, all official as HPD."

"Hey, guys," Jax greeted. "It was good. I filed traffic reports," she wrinkled her nose in disgust, "but at least it kept me busy."

"How was PT this afternoon?" Steve asked.

"Walk in the park compared to yesterday," she replied. "Anything I can help with here?"

"No, we're done for the day. Another exciting day of making the governor feel important. So glad that my skills developed in Naval Intelligence and BUDs training are being put to excellent use, accompanying the governor to her luncheon so she can talk about the importance of tourism," Steve groused.

"Steve," Chin said, "Please, for all our sakes, get out of here."

"I need to surf," Kono said, "before I literally turn into a potato."

"Yeah, sorry guys, I just get frustrated when we have to serve as props," Steve said. "Go on, everyone, get out of here. I'll shut down and be right on your heels."

Jax waited a few minutes as Steve signed off on the day's work, and then fell in happily beside him as he left the building. She hopped into the passenger seat of his Silverado and barely struggled with her seatbelt.

"It's early yet," Steve said, turning the ignition. "We'll take the long way home. It's a beautiful drive this time of day."

"Nice," she said, settling comfortably into the oversized seat, and pulling her feet up under her.

They rode in companionable silence for a while.

"You really hate it, don't you?" Jax said, quietly.

"Hm? Hate what?"

"All the political stuff."

He sighed. "Yeah, I do."

"But you stay on? I'm sure the SEALs would love to have you back. Or Naval Intelligence."

"I think about it, sometimes," he admitted. "But this is the best opportunity I have to track down Hesse."

"And then what?" she asked. "He goes to prison, if he survives, and then what do you do?"

Steve looked at her. _Damned perceptive_ , his brain suggested. _Too damn perceptive._

"Honestly? I have no idea."

She nodded. "That's okay, you know? You'll figure it out when the time comes."

"Yeah?" he asked, "you think?"

"Yes," she stated emphatically. "So, any leads on Hesse?"

"Nothing new. I keep revisiting the old leads . . . hoping something will turn up. I've got contacts in intelligence and Interpol. We've found him once; he'll slip up and we'll find him again."

"What about less . . . obvious contacts?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Less law-enforcement type, more criminal type. Do you have any of those contacts?"

"Low level informants. Nothing up the chain."

"Pity," she said, "I think you need some really good criminals looking out for your best interests."

Steve looked at her incredulously, then laughed; that wonderful, genuine, rare laugh that she had come to love. "You are a piece of work, you know that?"

()()()()()()()()

Steve made a stop on the way home.

"Be right back," he said, hopping out of the truck and entering a small, non-descript building. He returned with a bag that smelled heavenly.

"What is that?" Jax asked, curious.

"Moco loco," he answered. "Trust me."

They ate in the chairs overlooking the water behind his house.

"This is possibly the most perfect evening anyone could ask for," Jax sighed happily, washing down the last of her meal with a Longboard, and looking out over the water.

"I absolutely agree," Steve said, looking at Jax.

()()()()()()()()

Jax was thrilled to need nothing stronger than Motrin for pain before turning in to sleep, and decided to even risk sleeping in the guest room instead of the recliner.

"Progress," Steve said, grinning.

"Damn straight," Jax said, the wicked glint back in her eye.

She was awake at three am, shifting a little bit to try to ease the pressure on her shoulder, when she heard the muffled noises coming from upstairs. At first, she thought it might be a TV, but then she realized it was Steve's voice. Had they caught a case? Maybe he was on the phone. She got out of bed and opened the door of her room, sticking her head out into the hallway. More muffled noises.

"Son of a bitch . . . no . . ."

Jax caught her breath. _Oh._ A nightmare then, or a flashback. She hesitated. There were a lot of reasons not to try to interrupt a nightmare: for one thing, you could get punched in the face for your troubles, but more importantly, this sort of thing tended to be intensely private. On the other hand, not being able to wake up was horrible. And waking up alone over and over again was no picnic either.

"Hesse . . . no, I can't . . ."

Steve's voice was tortured, pleading, and it prompted Jax into action. She slipped a pair of gym shorts on under his Coronado Naval Base t-shirt, and paused a moment to think. _What helps? Something familiar . . . something comforting . . ._ She thought back to the night that Danny woke her up, and remembered his strong arms around her, remembered resting her head on his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave and that ridiculous hair product. Nodding to herself, she grabbed up her pillow and the light blanket that had been moving around with her regardless of where she'd slept.

Armed with the pillow and blanket, she set off up the stairs to try to fight Steve's demons. There was enough moonlight filtering in through the house to allow her to find a small lamp at the top of the landing. She switched it on and crept to the door of his bedroom. It was ajar . . . ironically, he had left it open to listen for her. Knocking softly, she called out his name. No response.

"Please . . ."

That did it. She couldn't possibly let him stay in that hell one minute longer. Pushing the door open, she called out again, hoping to wake him while she was still at a distance. Safer that way.

"Steve? Wake up, babe." She realized that she sounded like Danny, and wondered how many times he had played out this role. There was a small lamp on the dresser just inside his room, and she turned in on, creating a soft pool of light near the door. "Steve?" she called out again, softly.

"He . . . I can't . . . " his voice was anguished. Jax knew he had to be reliving hearing his father's murder. He was curled on his side, his arm thrown protectively over his face. She went to his side, and gently squeezed his bicep with her injured hand, her fingers instinctively tracing over his tattoo.

She was ready for the strike, and as he bolted upright in bed and threw out a punch, she blocked it expertly with her good hand and the pillow.

"Whoa, sailor, stand down. It's just me, it's Jax," she soothed, keeping her hand steady against his shoulder.

"Jax?" he gasped. "Are you okay? Did I -" he began frantically checking her over for injuries.

"Shh," she said, "I'm fine." She sat down cross-legged at the end of his bed, her pillow in her lap. "C'mere," she said, gently pulling his head down onto the pillow. He was shaking ever so slightly, and she shook out her blanket, awkwardly, and tossed it over him. He sighed and burrowed his face into her pillow, his fingers gripping the edge of the blanket tightly.

"Jax, I'm sorry," he started.

"Shut up," she said, "I asked you about Hesse earlier . . ."

"It's not your fault," he said tiredly. "I never know what will . . . sometimes it's nothing. Or anything."

"I know," she said, stroking her fingers through his hair. "Shhh . . . just close your eyes, okay? I've got you."

When he woke up the next morning, Jax was gone, but his head was still burrowed in her pillow, and he'd slept through the rest of the night, comforted by the smell of gunpowder and honeysuckle.

()()()()()()()()


	14. Chapter 14

**Wednesday**

Steve stopped short two steps out of his bedroom. Jax was curled in a chair at the top of the landing, sound asleep. She'd stayed just outside his room, instead of going back to her own. Standing guard against the nightmares. No one, other than Danny, had ever done that for him. He winced as he realized she was curled against her bad shoulder.

"Jax," he said, shaking her gently. "Wake up. You need to move, you're gonna kill that shoulder."

"Time'zit?" she asked, sleepily.

"It's about 5:30. I'm going to swim." He reached for her hand and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her. "Thank you," he whispered into her ear, brushing her curls away from her face.

She nuzzled her face into his shoulder. He loved the vibrant, quick-witted, smart ass side of Jax . . . but damn, this half-awake, gentle, drowsy version was pretty fantastic too. He curved one hand around the back of her head, and the other curved around her hip; fingers automatically brushing the knife scar. He could always feel it through the soft cotton of his old t-shirts.

"No problem," she said, mumbling into his collarbone, making his brain misfire.

"Go back to sleep," he said.

Jax nodded and started to drop back into the chair. Steve tightened his grip on her and pulled her back up.

"Not in the chair, silly, go back to bed," he said gently.

"Umkay," she mumbled, as she walked past him, still half-asleep, and faceplanted in his bed. She grabbed her own pillow and blanket and curled up. The entire process only took a few seconds and left Steve standing there, feeling more than a little disconcerted.

 _Well. Damn,_ his brain offered. _Swim. Time to go swim, Commander. In the nice cold water._

He came out of the water around six-thirty am, to find Jax sitting in the chairs, an extra cup of coffee still steaming and waiting for him. He wasn't entirely sure if he was relieved or disappointed at the thought of not finding her still asleep in his bed.

"I must be entirely too predictable," he said, "but if this is the result, I'll risk it."

Jax smiled and handed him the coffee. "I understand the routine. Can't think of a better way to start the day." Her hair was drying into haphazard curls as she sat in the early morning sun.

"What, the coffee?" Steve teased.

"The swimming," Jax said wistfully. "Do you know how rotten it's been, living within steps of the ocean, and between stitches and sprains, not able to swim?"

"I can imagine," Steve said seriously. "You love the water, don't you? I could see it the first night you were here."

"I do. I grew up near the Jersey shore, spent all my summers swimming. Danny and I probably were there at the same time, isn't that crazy? Anyway, I'm going to ask at PT today." She stood up and stretched, her HPD t-shirt riding up to reveal the bruising on her ribs, now in dull shades of green and yellow. She caught his glance and smirked at him.

"Come on, sailor," she tossed back over her shoulder. "Don't make me late for work."

Steve gave her a sloppy, one-fingered salute. "Yes, ma'am."

()()()()()()()()

He dropped her off at HPD, smiling at the spring in her step as she went up the steps and into the door.

"I'll catch the bus back to the Palace, okay?" she called back.

He gave her a thumbs up as he pulled away. Just as he merged onto the main road, his phone rang.

"McGarrett," he said. "Yeah, I'll be at headquarters in ten. Send everything over to Chin and Kono." He flipped on the lights and pressed down on the gas.

Within ten minutes, he was striding into the squad room. "What have we got, guys?"

Kono flicked a photo up onto the plasma screen. "Body parts," she stated.

"A group of early morning surfers found several body parts washed up on Sandy's Beach. Beach Patrol closed the beach, and HPD has two forensic teams over there bagging and tagging. Everything will be sent back to Max," Chin explained.

"Okay, I want us over there," Steve said. "We'll stand back, give the techs their space to work, but I want our eyes on the scene. We're not there to supervise forensics; they know what they're doing. Watch the crowd. The bystanders. Someone may be tempted to come back and see their handiwork. And Kono, get Charlie, I want him to have access to the scene before anything else is moved. He may see something HPD misses."

"On it, boss," Kono said, grabbing her crime scene kit. "Don't forget, though, Sandy's has some of the most brutal surf on the island. We could just be looking at a surfing accident that went unreported."

()()()()()()()()

When Kono arrived with Charlie, Steve and Chin had already eliminated her surfing accident theory.

"Unless the surfer had three arms, we're not looking at an isolated accident," Chin said grimly.

"What's the count so far?" Charlie asked.

"We've got three arms, a foot, a lower leg, and a thigh," Steve said grimly, his arms crossed over his chest. His face was turned toward the scene, but his eyes were scanning the small group of onlookers behind the crime scene tape.

"Anything?" Chin murmured, not looking at Steve.

"No, nothing that stands out to me. Get photos, though, at frequent intervals, of the onlookers. We may see something later."

The forensic team continued to comb the shoreline. Steve saw a small Coast Guard cutter race to the scene, as shallow as they dared. Several divers entered the water.

Chin didn't miss Steve's sigh. "Do you have your gear? I'm sure you could join them." He knew that Steve sometimes missed his days as a SEAL; knew what he had sacrificed to commit his life to tracking down his father's killer.

"Nah," Steve said, "they work as a team. They've got a good unit."

Chin clapped Steve on the shoulder. "For what it's worth, Steve, I think the work we do as Five-O means a lot, to a lot of people. I'm proud to serve with you as part of this team. I know it's not the same as your SEAL team, but it's an honor for us. Your dad would be proud."

"Thanks," Steve said. "Means a lot, coming from you." He shook off his wistfulness. "Once again, can't say I'm sorry that Danny is missing this one."

"Oh, brah, we'd never get him in the ocean if he saw this," Chin laughed.

()()()()()()()()

By the time the crime techs and divers were done, the body part count had risen to a total of three arms, two feet, two lower legs - both left, a thigh, and a hand.

Max was unreasonably chipper, given the gruesome contents of his lab. He bustled around, the tails of his lab coat fluttering behind him.

"I don't have any leads for you yet, gentlemen," he said, when Steve and Chin stopped by on their way back in.

"We understand that, Max, just wanted you to give us the run down of where you'll start. What can we do to help?" Steve asked.

"Well, I will start by looking for any identifying marks, such as tattoos, scars, or artificial joints," Max said.

"Any idea on time of death, how long these parts have been in the water?" Chin asked.

"Two separate issues, Officer Kelley," Max explained. "The human body could sustain life quite easily without any of these parts."

"So there may not be victims to go with these body parts?" Steve asked.

"It is entirely possible, Commander McGarrett."

"What about medical waste?" Chin asked.

"A mishandling of medical waste could certainly be a reasonable hypothesis," Max replied.

"Okay, well that gives us something, anyway," Steve said. "Let's start there, see what we can come up with."

()()()()()()()()

Jax returned late in the afternoon. When she entered the squad room, Kono and Chin were going through data on the central computer. Lists of medical supply and waste disposal companies were on the screen, along with photos from the scene that morning.

"Gnarly," Jax commented. "Sorry, is it a problem for me to see this?" she asked, absently rubbing her shoulder.

"Nah, these are HPD scene photos and the scene was worked by HPD forensic techs. It's all in the family," Steve said, coming out of his office. He ran his fingers through Jax's curls, and rubbed her shoulder gently. "How was PT?"

She raised her wrist, now encased in a simple, thin, elastic brace. "I've graduated," she said, but the tenseness around her eyes betrayed her attempt at lighthearted distraction.

"Nice," Steve replied, "how about the shoulder?"

Jax made a face. "Still very unstable. I might be able to swim by this weekend, though. What's with the bits and pieces?"

 _Stubborn,_ Steve's brain commented. _And clever. Diversion again._

"We have no idea. Max is examining the evidence, Chin and Kono are starting with medical waste disposal companies. I've been looking to see if there have been any offshore accidents. So far, no leads," he said aloud.

"Will you guys be working late? I can help," Jax offered.

"No, until Max gives us something - anything - to go on with the body parts themselves, we're pretty much driving blind. Once business hours end, we can't make contacts anyway. Make yourself comfortable, we won't be too much longer," Steve said.

He was somewhat amused when Jax joined Kono and Chin at the computer. He watched as she and Kono bent over a file together; Kono's chocolate waves and Jax's red curls hanging together over the table. Kono's fingers were a blur as she expertly manipulated and sorted data, and Steve could tell that Jax was impressed, both with Kono's ability and the technology at her disposal. All of the scene photos flashed up onto the plasma, and Jax walked to the screens examining them closely.

Steve couldn't resist. He snapped a picture on his cell phone and sent it to Danny.

_She may have missed her calling as a detective, Danno._

_Considered it. Smart enough. But not enough guns or explosions for her. Like someone else I know._

_She and Kono are getting to be good friends._

_Lord help us all._

_When does your plane land tomorrow?_

_5 pm. Gimme a ride?_

_I'll be there, partner. Take care._

Chin entered his office, a stack of papers in hand. "Here's a listing of the medical waste companies on the island. I'm surprised at how many there are. Most are privately owned and operated, but we've also included hospitals and clinics that handle their own disposal. They are all supposed to use incineration; so if we have these parts floating ashore from a waste company, they are in huge violation. Of course, we could be completely off base, but until Max gives us something, it's the first logical lead we have."

"Thanks, Chin," Steve said, taking the papers. "Are we going to have to go pay a visit to each one of these places?"

"I have no idea. Honestly, I just needed an excuse to walk away from the two of them. They are entirely too enthused about body parts. They scare me," Chin said, shaking his head.

"I know exactly what you mean," Steve said, nodding. "Isn't it great?"

Chin threw back his head and laughed. "I suggest we call it a day, before the two of them start planning world domination."

()()()()()()()()

Steve noticed Jax struggling with her seatbelt again as they left the Palace. She winced as she jostled her shoulder trying to fasten it.

"Hey, let me," he said quietly, reaching over to snag the belt and click it into place.

"Thanks," she said, pulling her feet up under her on the seat and leaning her head against the window.

"You okay?"

"Umm hmm. I'm thinking Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are not gonna be my favorite days for a while. It will be worth it, though, to get cleared for active duty."

"I'm pretty sure if you push too hard it's going to backfire on you," he said, rubbing her knee gently.

"I know," she sighed. "I just want to be completely put back together again, you know?"

"Oh, believe me," Steve said, smirking. "I absolutely know."

Jax glanced at him, narrowing her eyes a bit, then laughing when she caught on.

"Stupid Danny," they said in unison.

()()()()()()()()

"Heat or cold?" Steve called from the kitchen, as Jax came out of the guest room, in his Annapolis t-shirt and gym shorts, and sank wearily into the corner of the sofa.

"Cold. It's swollen," Jax said glumly.

Steve came into the living room with a cold pack, a glass of water, and Jax's prescriptions. He smiled at the sight of her. Really, the Annapolis was his favorite.

"Whoa, sailor, I don't know that I need to pull out the big guns," Jax said. "Let's start with Motrin."

"Thought you might say that," Steve grinned, handed Jax the glass of water, and fished the bottle of Motrin out of his pocket. He activated the cold pack and gently wrapped it around Jax's shoulder. He tilted a couple of tablets into her hand, and brushed her curls out of her face.

"How about omelettes for dinner?" he asked. "It's not gourmet, but it's good."

"That sounds great," Jax said. "Thank you. Really, I mean it."

Steve cupped his hand under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. "I'm very happy to have you here to cook for, Jax. Really, I mean it." He was surprised at how much he had come to look forward to her presence at the end of the day. It had been hell, moving back into his childhood home, now the scene of his father's murder. Letting go of the house had been unthinkable, but walking in the door each night had been more difficult than he had let on. Danny, of course, saw straight through his bullshit. Still, he'd thought that he preferred the solitude. Maybe he was wrong. Or maybe it was just Jax.

They ate in the living room, so Steve could watch the news for any indication of activity that could have contributed to the body parts washing ashore.

"No boating accidents, no cargo mishaps reported, no surfers missing . . . " Steve shook his head. "This is a strange case."

"Well, thankfully, there's no stories about body parts on the beach, either, "Jax pointed out. "That's good, right?" She shifted awkwardly, trying to get comfortable, and discarded the now-warm cold pack.

Steve groaned. "Oh, yeah, that's good. The governor will rip us a new one if we don't figure this out in time to prevent a public panic." He frowned at her obvious discomfort. Standing up, he grabbed their plates and took them to the kitchen. He flipped on the coffee maker, and washed up the plates quickly while it brewed.

"Coffee?" Jax said hopefully, hearing the distinctive beep from the living room.

Steve chuckled as he poured two mugs. "Aye aye, ma'am."

He handed her the steaming mug and didn't even pretend not to watch and wait for . . . _yep._

"What?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

He smiled at her, warm and gentle, and shook his head. "Oh, nothing. Just a theory I hope to test someday." Reaching for the remote, he flipped through a few channels until he stumbled upon Point Break.

"A surfing movie, very appropriate," Jax said, smiling.

"Ummhmm," Steve murmured. "I put money on you being sound asleep before Keanu learns to surf." He gently scooted her away from the corner of the sofa and slid in behind her; reaching around to carefully take her injured wrist in his hands. He eased the thin wrist support off, and carefully massaged circulation back into the damaged joint. "Does this help?" he asked.

Jax nodded gratefully. "I spent all afternoon squeezing a tennis ball," she groaned.

"Time well spent, I'm sure," Steve said. "What did you do with this shoulder?" he asked, trailing his fingers up her arm and pressing gently, assessing the damage. "I'm pretty sure it shouldn't be this swollen after physical therapy." Maybe he needed to get Malia to go supervise. Either they were pushing her too hard, or not noticing that she was pushing herself.

"There were weights, and range of motion exercises," she said wearily. "They tell me to do as many as I possibly can, so I do."

"Oh, well, there's the problem," Steve said, feeling the tension and strain in the lean muscle beneath his fingers. "They are completely underestimating both your pain tolerance and your stubbornness."

Jax chuckled and then hissed in pain as his fingers caught a particularly sore spot.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured, rubbing even more gently until the muscle unknotted beneath his fingers. He could feel her slowly relaxing, the tension from the pain and fatigue gradually leaving. "So, I had body parts today. Tell me about your day at HPD."

"Well, it was a step up from filing traffic reports," she replied. "Today, I logged a month's worth of SWAT case files into the computer."

 _And, there's another reason your wrist is jacked up,_ Steve thought, but he kept that to himself.

"Yeah?" he said aloud. "Anything interesting?"

"Yes, in fact, I came across your name several times," she said. "You seem to have a propensity for solving problems with smoke bombs and hand grenades."

"I have to assume that if SWAT is calling me for help, Grover wants me to think outside the box," he replied, shrugging. He shifted Jax slightly so that he could work out the knotted muscles in her neck and other shoulder. "You're a wreck, Jax," he mumbled.

 _Yep. Total wreck. Just doing your civic duty, that's all. Nothing to see here._ His brain easily justified his current actions.

"Desk work doesn't agree with me," she said. "But it was good, it gave me the chance to see what sort of cases HPD SWAT runs, the decisions Captain Grover makes."

"I'm sure that's why he gave it to you," Steve agreed. "He's a good man; a good leader."

He pressed gently on her injured collarbone, pleased that it seemed much more stable and solid under his fingers, despite the increased bruising from her fall in the elevator. "This is healing nicely," he said, and without thinking, bent his head over her shoulder and kissed the bruised area gently.

He felt and heard her breathing hitch.

"Sorry," he said quietly, his hands stilling on her shoulders.

"Don't be," she whispered.

His fingers ghosted over the almost faded bruises on her neck. "These are healing nicely, too," he said.

"Umm hmm," she murmured. He risked taking that as permission to kiss those bruises too; tenderly and reverently.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, unable to stop the tears that were spilling over, and too exhausted to try to escape notice.

Steve felt the first tear hit his neck, where her head lay nestled against him. He reached up his hand to her face.

"Jax . . . sweetheart . . ." he whispered, brushing the tears away. She wasn't pulling away from him, so he risked wrapping his arms around her gently.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't expect . . . Danny said . . . but I thought that he was being, you know, all Danny."

Steve nodded. Danny could definitely be . . . all Danny. But Danny was also wise, underneath all that pseudo-arrogance and bluster.

"But this is okay?" Steve asked, one hand rubbing her arm gently, the other curled familiarly around her hip, fingers absently brushing over the scar there.

"More than okay," she nodded. "I'm sorry, Steve, I thought . . . I really truly thought that . . . "

"You thought that you could just move on as if all that happened in New York was getting beat up and knifed?" Steve finished quietly.

"Well, yeah," she said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "I don't understand why . . ."

"Why it's not working?"

"Yeah."

"Because, Ku'uipo," the endearments were just spilling out of him, unbidden, but she hadn't punched him yet, "no one is that good at compartmentalizing, not even you. You can bury the shit deep, tuck it away in a corner, distract it by almost getting yourself killed - repeatedly . . . eventually it demands to be dealt with."

"Damn demanding shit," she mumbled.

"Yes, it is," Steve agreed. He had plenty of damn demanding shit to deal with. Usually poorly.

"I'm sorry you're having to put up with my shit," she whispered. "I didn't mean . . . for God's sake, I've joked with you, and teased . . . I'm not trying to pull -"

"Stop," he broke in mid-syllable. "Don't you dare apologize for something completely beyond your control. You do and feel whatever seems right to do or feel at any given moment. If that means you want to give me that wicked wink of yours, do it, because God, I love that. If you get spooked or need space, you let me know. There is no right or wrong, there is no timeline, and there are zero expectations. Okay?"

She nodded, more tears slipping down onto her cheeks. Steve brushed them away again.

He felt her take a breath, as if to say something, and then she bit her lip and hesitated.

"What, Jax? What is it? You can tell me anything," he murmured.

"It's just . . . it's not fair to you," she said. "You deserve . . . you shouldn't have to . . ." She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

Comprehension dawned on Steve, and if she hadn't been so obviously distressed he would have laughed. "I shouldn't have to take cold showers?" he guessed.

She nodded.

"Oh, ku'uipo, don't give it a second thought. You are worth infinitely more than that to me. Everything will fall into place when it's meant to, and in the meantime, I've got the entire Pacific Ocean. It's cold enough this time of year, and I like to swim anyway," he said, holding her and dropping a kiss into her curls. He reached up and grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and spread it out over her.

"You don't need . . . I can go to my room," she protested.

"Nope. It's been a rough evening. Shit might demand to be dealt with in the middle of the night. Sleep," he commanded gently, running his fingers through her hair. "Sleep, and tomorrow we go to work, and then we pick up Danny."

"Who's maybe not stupid," she added.

"Danny, who is maybe not stupid," Steve agreed.

"Steve?" she asked, half-asleep already.

"Hmm?"

"What's ku-, ku- . . . "

"Ku'uipo? Means sweetheart. You mind?"

"Nope. I think it's my favorite Hawaiian word so far," she said, closing her eyes and snuggling closer. "Kono's going to teach me some swear words . . . " she said, as she drifted off to sleep.

Steve was right . . . some shit demanded to be dealt with in the middle of the night.

She woke up, still feeling O'Neil's hands around her neck. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in gasps.

"Shh, ku'uipo . . . it's okay. I've got you. You're safe," Steve whispered, his arms loosely wrapped around her, fingers automatically brushing the scar on her hip.

Jax choked back a sob.

"It's okay, Jax, you have nothing to prove here," Steve said gently.

"He was right, you know," she said.

"Who was right?" Steve asked quietly, his fingers brushing through her curls.

"O'Neil. He was right about the concussion. I kept slipping . . . I couldn't keep track. Of where I was . . . or even when it was. I knew Danny couldn't get to me, but I couldn't remember why. I kept thinking it was because he was in Jersey and I was in New York. He was right about me calling for Billy, too. I remember knowing - I absolutely knew that Billy wouldn't come, but I couldn't, in that moment, remember why." She paused, brushing tears away from her eyes impatiently.

"He reminded me," she added, so quietly that Steve almost missed it. "He told me that Billy was dead, that Danny was in Hawaii. That I was completely alone. And that was why he and Martinez and Jackson would get away with it. Because I had no one left. That's when I quit fighting . . . " Despite her best efforts, she sobbed quietly for a moment, Steve rubbing her back gently and whispering to her.

She pulled herself together again and continued. "Officer Patrick O'Connell showed up," she said, half-laughing at the memory.

"Nice Irish boy, I take it?" Steve asked, smiling and brushing tears off her face.

"Oh, indeed. Hair as red as mine. We were working a drug case together. Park Slope, predominantly old Irish gangs, reinvented as drug rings. We were both undercover as bartenders in one of the suspected fronts. I was supposed to be on shift and hadn't shown up. Patrick got worried and came looking for me. I was only a block away from my apartment . . . someone had seen the scuffle in the alleyway. They hadn't called it in, but when Patrick started banging on doors, they pointed him in the right direction."

Steve made a mental note to look up this Officer O'Connell and made sure he got a commendation. And a promotion. And a raise. So what, he'd owe the governor yet another favor.

"He had called for backup as soon as he realized something was wrong. I wasn't quite as alone as O'Neil thought I was. The other officer was actually the arresting officer. I think Patrick was supposed to be in charge of helping me hold my shit together. I'm pretty sure I punched him at one point; I was still really confused. Poor guy."

"I'm sure he understood," Steve said.

"Yeah, he sort of accidentally on purpose looked the other way when I, um, assaulted O'Neil," she said.

Steve started to remind her that she eventually put a bullet between O'Neil's eyes, then realized that was probably a trauma that she wasn't ready to process. Even if the bastard had deserved it.

"I like this Officer O'Connell," he said, instead.

"Mmm hmm," Jax agreed sleepily.

"Go back to sleep," Steve whispered. "It's only four am. Rest up, we gotta deal with Danny this evening."

"He's not stupid," she mumbled, almost asleep already.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thursday**

Jax woke up to the smell of coffee drifting in from the kitchen. She was still on the sofa, tucked comfortably with an extra pillow propping up her injured arm. Her cell phone and a glass of water had been placed within easy reach. Checking the time, she realized that she had just enough time to grab a quick shower and meet Steve by the water with coffee.

Ten minutes later, she was squinting in the morning sun, two cups of coffee in hand, watching for Steve to reappear. In just a few moments, she saw him cutting cleanly through the water. When he reached the shallows, he stood and shook the water out of his hair, looking toward the chairs. He broke into a relaxed, genuine smile when he spotted Jax, and she beamed back at him.

"Good morning," he said, taking the coffee she held out to him. "You okay?"

"I'm good," she said. "Thank you, for . . . you know. Last night."

He flicked a wayward curl off her cheek. "Hey, just returning the favor."

"We're sort of a mess, aren't we?" Jax commented.

Steve shrugged. "Honestly? Military, law enforcement, emergency service - you serve long enough, eventually you have - "

"Shit that demands to be dealt with?" Jax interrupted.

"Exactly," he grinned down at her. "Like body parts to identify."

"Yeah, keep me posted on that," Jax said. "Fascinating stuff."

Within the hour, they were on their way to HPD. "I'll pick you up after PT today, we'll go to the airport," Steve confirmed, dropping her off.

"Copy that," Jax said, as she hopped easily out of his truck.

()()()()()()()()

As Steve pulled into the parking lot of the Palace, his phone buzzed with a text message from Max.

_Please come to the lab at your earliest convenience._

He parked and quickly entered the building, making a beeline for the basement and Max's autopsy and lab rooms. As he entered the lab, he heard Chin and Kono coming in behind him. Apparently, Max had summoned all of them.

"Welcome," Max said, beaming and bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet.

"Good morning, Max," Chin said, "you seem excited."

"I am indeed, Officer Kelley," Max confirmed. "I have identification on our body parts."

"Max, that's incredible," Steve said, dumbfounded. He had hoped, at best, for a tentative clue or lead on any of the parts. Identification on all of them was beyond his expectations. "How?"

"I ran the DNA," Max said simply.

"And you got a hit?" Kono asked, incredulous.

"Wait," Steve said, "that's only possible if the person is military or in a criminal database."

"Exactly," Max confirmed. "Nine DNA samples. Nine positive hits in Interpol. Also," he said, pulling back two of the coverings over two of the body parts, "you will be very interested in these."

Steve, Chin, and Kono bent over the two revealed parts - the thigh, and one of the lower legs. They could make out the outlines of tattoos.

"Pretty degraded, Max," Chin pointed out.

"Yes, but with enhancing software, I was able to generate a facsimile." Max clicked rapidly on a keyboard, and two pictures appeared on the screens.

Chin let out a low whistle. "Yakuza art," he said. "No doubt."

Steve and Kono nodded in agreement.

"And DNA confirms that suspicion," Max said, clicking away, and displaying nine files. "The nine DNA samples matched up with nine suspected members of the Yakuza gang, all accused of smuggling drugs and counterfeiting. They are wanted in Japan and Korea."

"And their parts end up on Sandy's Beach. What the hell?" Steve said. "Are we looking for nine corpses? Or nine people with parts missing?"

"Either or both, Commander," Max said, completely nonplussed at the prospect. "The parts were too severely degraded for me to be able to determine if these parts were amputated, or simply separated from the rest of the body in the water. I also can not determine whether the parts were separated before or after death. I will run some additional tests, to determine if the parts were previously preserved, either chemically or by freezing. That's all I can think of to do at this point."

"So we have bits and pieces of nine different suspected Yakuza criminals in our crime lab. No idea whether these people are dead or alive; no idea where they are," Chin summarized.

"Precisely," Max added. "I did, of course, inform Interpol of our findings, and the files will be updated. The Five-O team will be notified of any findings likewise reported to Interpol."

Steve shook his head at the information on the screen. "Okay, Max, thanks. We'll open a case, start combing through all of the information, and see if we can find any connections to anything happening on the island."

Back in the squad room, the three team members stood staring at the information on the plasmas.

"Have you ever come across anything like this, Chin?" Steve asked.

"Never. Where do we even begin? We don't know if we are looking for victims or suspects," Chin said.

"The surf at Sandy's is brutal," Kono reminded them. "These body parts can't possibly have been in the water long. They would have been pulverized. So, whatever happened, these parts weren't in the water but for a few hours at most; and to even make it to shore, they had to be dumped close to the coast. Very close; otherwise, they would have been pulled out in the current, instead of washing ashore. Of course, until Max finishes, we won't know if they were in storage of some sort before that."

"So we could still be looking at any number of variables for a timeline," Steve sighed. "And as to motive?"

"Any number of possibilities," Chin said. "Anything from disposal of victims, to ritualized punishment for infractions against the Yakuza."

"You're kidding, right?" Kono said, incredulously. "They hack off body parts?"

"Well, traditionally, they start with the little finger. One joint at a time. But, I've heard rumors of certain very isolated Yakuza groups in Japan that take more serious measures," Chin explained.

"But not here, on the islands?" Steve asked.

"Not that I've ever heard," Chin said.

"Okay, then let's start there," Steve suggested. "Pull everything we can on these nine individuals. Check TSA, Interpol, everything. Let's see if we can trace their movements; see if facial recognition picks anything up at Honolulu International. Maybe they came to the islands recently for some reason."

"If so, that would be cause for alarm," Chin pointed out. "These are high level Yakuza; suspected of smuggling serious amounts of drugs and counterfeit money. If they were here, something very big is happening."

"Okay, we'll each take three names and get started," Steve sighed.

"Great. Another case solved by paperwork," Kono said glumly.

"I'm sorry, guys, we don't get to break out the kevlar and semi-automatics today," Chin shook his head in amusement. "But, look on the bright side - you won't miss picking Jax up from her PT appointment, and then going to get Danny."

Steve brightened considerably. "There is that."

"And when Danny gets back, he'll still be on light duty, right?" Kono asked. "So he can have a field day with this. Maybe there'll be a nice bank robbery or something for us by tomorrow."

Chin shook his head again. He missed Danny. Without him, he was outnumbered two to one by the adrenaline junkies.

()()()()()()()()

The hours passed slowly, and Steve was incredibly thankful for the excuse to leave at three in the afternoon.

"She's my friend, too," Kono had grumbled. "I could have gone to pick her up."

"Maybe next time," Steve grinned. Sometimes it was very good to be the boss.

He arrived at the physical and occupational therapy wing early, and was surprised to see Malia in the waiting area.

"Steve!" she said, jumping up and giving him a big hug. "It's so good to see you. Are you here to pick up Jax?"

"Yeah, we're going to go get Danny at the airport," he replied. "I didn't expect to see you here; this isn't your department."

"Well, I have a late shift this evening, so I thought I'd come in early and speak to Jax's physical therapist, and see how things are coming along."

"You're checking up on her," Steve grinned. "Make sure she's compliant?"

Malia laughed. "Well, I know how motivated she is to get back in the field. More like checking to be sure the therapist knows that Jax will push herself beyond what is reasonable and healthy, if someone doesn't set limits for her. Oh, and I see from that face you're making that you're already well aware of this. What happened?"

"She pushed way too hard yesterday. She said the therapist gave her exercises to do, and told her to 'do as many as she could'. Her shoulder was swollen, inflamed . . . she'd done a real number on it. I had actually thought to call you, and ask you to check in, so thanks for coming over today. I just don't think the physical therapist realizes that they're not dealing with a typical civilian patient."

"I agree, and that's been my concern. I'll speak to them; see what they discovered today - more than likely they've already realized that she pushed too hard yesterday. I'll get everything sorted out. How about pain management at home? How's that going?"

"Just ice and Motrin last night. She is still pretty reluctant to use the protocol we brought home from New York, even though it doesn't cause nearly the problems typical narcotics cause," Steve answered.

"That's not a bad thing; it's a great protocol but it could be addictive," Malia said. "So, I agree, she should use it only when absolutely necessary. She's so stubborn, though, that if she's actually asking for it - odds are good she should probably be seen by a professional. How's she sleeping without the protocol drugs?"

Steve hesitated. He didn't want to violate Jax's privacy, but Malia was family and could be trusted.

Malia read his hesitation and held up her hand. "Okay, you don't need to say anything. Couple of rough nights?"

"Yeah," Steve said, relieved. "Last night was pretty bad."

"Off the record, as friends: are we still dealing with 9/11 trauma, or more recent?" Malia asked.

"Recent," Steve said grimly, his face darkening.

"Well," Malia said, "it's going to have to be processed at some point. If she's able to talk about it, that's good. If you feel like she's getting stuck - same flashbacks, same nightmares, over and over - and she's not able to talk about it, in bits and pieces, baby steps - then let me know. Otherwise, it's just a matter of time and patience. Think you can handle that, Commander?"

"She shouldn't live alone, then," he blurted out.

Malia narrowed her eyes at him, then broke into a hearty laugh. "Okay, if that's how you want to play it, I'll go along."

"What?" Steve asked, trying to look innocent, and failing miserably.

Malia shook her head. "Her appointment should be wrapping up, let's go check."

They walked through the reception area into the large, bright physical therapy clinic. Malia's lab coat and hospital ID gave her the same kind of access here that Steve's badge and gun gave him in most other scenarios. There were dozens of stations set up throughout the open area, with soft sunlight filtering through the small palms outside the large glass windows.

"Wow," Steve said, impressed.

"Surely you've been here plenty of times?" Malia asked, surprised. "I know several of your injuries would have required PT for full recovery."

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, I seem to do okay with swimming as soon as the stitches heal," he said. "I wasn't taking any chances with Jax, though, I made sure she was doing what she was told."

"Steve, I want you to get it through your head someday, that your health and well being is every bit as valuable as your team's," Malia said, resting her hand gently on his arm. "They need you to take care of yourself, too. Now, Tuesdays and Thursdays are tens unit therapy days so . . . oh, there she is."

Steve looked where Malia was pointing. Jax was facing the windows, wearing a simple tank and her usual NYPD gym shorts, sitting in an odd-looking chair, with a handful of electrodes attached to her shoulder and collarbone. The wires connected to some sort of odd looking machine next to her, and at regular intervals, Steve could hear a dull buzz and much to his horror, could see the muscles of Jax shoulder and neck visibly contract.

_They're torturing her. I'll kill them._

He didn't realize he'd said it aloud, until Malia turned to him quickly, her eyes filled with alarm.

She placed a hand flat against his chest, berating herself for not anticipating this problem: Steve had, no doubt, both witnessed and experienced torture by means of electrocution. His pupils were focused to pinpricks and he had a look on his face that she'd never seen before. Now she understood exactly what Chin meant, when he'd said that sometimes Steve could be downright terrifying.

"Steve, no," she said quickly and emphatically. "I promise, it's not hurting her. It's a gentle electrical pulse. It rebuilds the muscle tissue on a cellular level, by increasing circulation and stimulating muscle activity; sort of like an electrical push-up or pull up. She can't do a lot of exercises because of her wrist, so this is activating the muscle in the same way. I promise, it doesn't hurt; it may feel mildly uncomfortable, but that's all."

Steve shook his head. "Then they're doing it wrong. She's in pain, Malia. Look, she's pale, and you can see it around her eyes."

Malia looked closely. "Oh, no, Steve . . . you're right." She walked quickly to the machine, and dialed the setting down.

Jax looked up in surprised when she realized that Malia was next to her. She'd been concentrating on blocking out the pain and discomfort. Her physical therapist, noting Malia at the controls, came over immediately.

"Hi, Dr. Waincroft, I'm Amelia," she said, extending her hand. "Is there a problem?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"Amelia, hello," Malia said. "I'm afraid there may be some misunderstanding with Jax's treatment, and since I'm currently the closest thing she has to a primary care physician, I just wanted to follow up."

"Ah," Amelia said, "Jax and I already discussed that she went way overboard with the weights yesterday."

"Excellent," Malia said, "but I'm afraid Jax may also have misunderstood that the tens unit should not cause more than very minor discomfort. I realize you depend on the patient to determine the setting, but in this case, you're dealing with someone with an incredibly high tolerance for pain, and a very stubborn determination to get cleared for active duty. Her friend there observed some very subtle but accurate tells - this setting was causing extreme discomfort."

Jax peeked her head around Malia and caught sight of Steve. She was prepared to give him the stink-eye and yell at him for being an overprotective Neanderthal, but he looked completely stricken.

"Jax," Amelia said bringing her attention back to her. "Is that true? You can't let me put the setting too high. I know you're anxious to get cleared, but this is going to be counterproductive. It will damage the muscle instead of heal it. Was it causing pain?"

Jax shrugged, wincing a bit as her overworked muscles protested. "Um, I guess? You said to say 'when' when it was bordering on uncomfortable. I thought I could handle it."

 _Off. Get them off,_ Steve's brain demanded.

Amelia looked confused, so Malia tried to help explain. "Amelia, since a lot of our military and law enforcement personnel go to Tripler for treatment, you're not as familiar. These folks instinctively compartmentalize and block out pain. They have to, in order to do their jobs. So Jax probably didn't register that this was painful until quite a bit of time after it started. And at that point, her training also tells her just to suck it up and carry on. Am I right, Jax?" She looked fondly down at her patient.

Jax nodded. "Yeah, what she said," she said, addressing Amelia. "Sorry, I'm a medic, but I really have no idea what happens after the trauma. I wasn't sure how it was supposed to work. I assumed stronger was faster and faster puts me back in the field."

 _Off. Now. Get those damn things off her now,_ Steve's brain continued to insist.

"I am incredibly sorry," Amelia said. "I'll make a note in her chart right away, so that regardless of who she sees when she comes to PT, we'll all know how to arrange treatment."

"Excellent," Malia said. "Thank you so much, Amelia."

 _Fine. They're chit chatting and she's sitting there . . . fine. Get the damn things off yourself,_ Steve's brain decided that he needed to take immediate action. While Malia and Amelia continued to discuss the treatment, he went quietly to Jax and gently removed each of the electrodes, tossing them not so gently back on top of the machine.

"No problem at all," Amelia said, her lack of professional arrogance a welcome relief to Malia. "Jax, do you have any other questions? We're done for today, and I honestly think you should not come back in until Monday. Just continue with ice and Motrin over the weekend. Let's give all of this soft tissue a little extra time to heal, and then Monday we'll continue with making sure the muscle is strengthening, so you don't keep slipping your shoulder out of joint."

"Yes, I have a question," Jax said, excited. "Please, please can I swim this weekend?"

Amelia looked at her skeptically. "And who is going to set limits for you, since you can't seem to do that for yourself?"

"I will," Steve said quietly, his eyes focused on Jax, as if he was trying to convince himself that she was okay.

Malia nodded. "That should work; he obviously can tell when she's hurting, probably better than she can herself. Let me wrap up here; you two have an important appointment to keep at the airport, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Meet you out front?" Jax asked. Steve still looked distinctly uncomfortable, as if he couldn't wait to get out of the room.

"Yeah," he nodded tersely, as Jax trotted off to the patient room.

Amelia looked at Malia, her eyes full of questions, but decided to wait until this terribly intimidating man left before she asked.

"Thanks, Malia," Steve said, looking down at her, his eyes still clouded and troubled.

"No problem, Steve," she said, "and she's absolutely fine, I promise."

He nodded and swallowed hard, then extended a hand politely to Amelia. "Very nice to meet you," he said stiffly, then turned and strode toward the exit, his long stride moving him swiftly across the room.

"Yowsers," Amelia said.

"I know," Malia said sympathetically, "but let me explain . . . "

()()()()()()()()

Steve was leaning against the truck, arms crossed across his chest, when Jax exited the building. She was smiling and there was a bounce in her step, as she anticipated being reunited with Danny.

She stopped short at the expression on Steve's face.

 _Holy shit, this must be the Super Scary SEAL Danny mentioned,_ she thought.

"Steve?" she asked hesitantly, taking a step backward.

The sound of fear in her voice startled Steve out of his thoughts.

 _Nice going, you've scared her to death,_ his brain chided. _Fix it fix it fix it._

"Jax," he sighed, pushing off the truck and reaching out to her. She timidly took his hand. Everything about that was wrong. She shouldn't be afraid of him. "I'm sorry, ku'uipo," he said, gently pulling her close to him and cradling her head in his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you . . . I just saw you . . . with those damned electrodes and I . . . "

His other hand drifted down to wrap around her hip, and he felt her relax against him.

"It's okay," she said quietly, "I think I understand." She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her head against his chest.

He sighed and held her close, his fingers tangled in her curls. She could feel his heart beating too fast.

"I'm okay, Steve," she said, looking up at him. "I'm absolutely fine."

"You're sure?" he asked, his strong fingers gently brushing across her collarbone and pressing gently against her shoulder. "It looked . . . it looked like it was really hurting you."

She shook her head. "I probably let them turn it up too much, but those machines don't carry a dangerous voltage. I'm just anxious to get back in the field." She studied his eyes, saw the barely concealed panic. "I promise I will be more careful," she said, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'll be more careful, okay?"

"Okay," he said, nodding and pulling her head against his chest again. She could feel his heart beating, slower now, and steady. He kissed the top of her head and tousled her hair. "Okay, let's go get our boy," he said, letting go of her and opening the passenger door of the truck. She let out an indignant squeak as he scooped her up and placed her gently on the seat. She smacked him - hard - on the shoulder with her good hand.

"Watch it, sailor," she said. "I'm perfectly capable."

"Humor me, okay?"

()()()()()()()()

Danny exited the plane, searching the crowds milling about, his eyes scanning for Steve. It didn't take long to spot him: Steve stood out in a crowd, not only because of his height, but he simply had a presence that commanded attention. It was especially easy to spot him today, since Jax, with her shock of red hair, was standing next to him.

 _Right_ next to him, Danny noticed. Her head against his chest, her arm around his waist, his arm around her shoulder and curled protectively . . . _possessively_ . . . around her hip, his fingers brushing absently against the scar there.

Danny paused, just taking a moment to enjoy the sight of two of his dearest friends. They both looked a little rough around the edges. Steve looked vaguely . . . traumatized, which would demand an explanation later. Jax looked a little pale; she was smiling at Danny but there was evidence of pain and fatigue around her eyes.

"Danny," Jax said, as she spotted him, her voice breaking.

Steve nudged her forward. "Go on, then," he said, smiling at Danny over her head.

She took a few hesitant steps forward and then made a beeline straight for him, not stopping until she had collided with his solid frame. Danny hugged her tight, tucking her head under his chin and gently rubbing her shaking shoulders.

 _This is how it all started,_ Steve's brain reminded him.

He watched as Danny gently pushed Jax back to look at her, brush her hair away from her face, and ask if she was okay. She nodded, but Danny looked skeptical as he thumbed away a few tears from her cheeks. He cradled her head against his shoulder again, and Steve could see that he was mumbling assurances in her ear. She nodded a few more times, and finally Danny let go of her.

Steve joined them, reaching out to grab Danny's hand and pull him into a firm hug.

"Welcome home, Danny," he said.

"I didn't think I'd ever say this, but it's good to be home," Danny replied. "Even if home is a god-forsaken, pineapple infested, heap of volcanic ash."

When they reached Steve's Silverado, Danny tossed his bag into the back seat and started to climb in.

"Don't, Danno," Jax said, "sit up here. I'll sit in the middle."

She climbed into the truck and slid easily to the center seat, crossing her legs underneath her. She winced again as she struggled with the seatbelt, and Steve snagged it and pulled it across in what Danny noted was a familiar gesture. He shook his head and got in the front as ordered.

 _This is good,_ Steve's brain announced, _from now on Jax sits in the middle. We like this._ He put his arm across the back of the seat, smiling down at Jax when she leaned her head back against it.

"So, Jax," Danny began, "your belongings, such as they are, should arrive in a few weeks. I didn't rush shipping because I figured you'd be living in cargo pants and HPD uniforms."

"I have permission to swim so this weekend I plan to mostly be in board shorts," Jax stated.

 _Hell yeah,_ cheered Steve's brain. _The green ones._

"And she has plenty of my t-shirts to wear," Steve added.

"Well, you know, someone should wear them," Danny groused. "Hey, this isn't the way to my apartment."

"Danny," Steve said, slowly and patiently, "if you think we're going to just dump you off at that hell-hole of an apartment your first night back home, you're nuts. You're coming home with us."

 _Home. Us. Plural. Yeah, that sounds about right._ Steve's brain was supplying a running commentary. Maybe Danny was a bad influence.

"Steve," Danny said, his voice carrying a hint of warning.

"Yeah?" Steve said absently.

"Just so you know . . . that's _my_ shoulder you're rubbing, babe."

"Oh," Steve said, not at all apologetic, and moved his hand to its intended target.

Jax patted Danny on the knee sympathetically. "Let's go home," she said.

()()()()()()()()

"I assume I've been demoted to Mary's bedroom?" Danny groused as they entered Steve's house.

"Yep, the guest room is mine," Jax confirmed, as she put her gun, badge, and cell phone on the designated spot . . . right next to Steve's, Danny noted. "Although depending on how my shoulder feels, sometimes I sleep in the recliner . . . or once in a while the sofa. Though Steve's mattress is the most comfortable," she added as an afterthought, as she went down the hall and into her room.

"Steven," Danny said, turning to glare at Steve, who threw his hands up in defense.

"I was not in the bed at the time, Danno," he said. "It's a long story."

"Make it short," Danny said tersely.

"I'd had a nightmare, she woke me up, when I went back to sleep, she camped out on the landing. Next morning, when I went out to swim, she was too tired to make it down the stairs. Crashed, literally face first, onto my bed. She was outside before I got out of the water," Steve recited quickly.

"Okay," Danny said. "Now, you want to tell me what happened that has you looking like the Navy lost the Army Navy game?"

Steve sighed. "Well, she had a rough night last night. I think she's finally starting to deal with the assault. She's so strong, Danny, one of the strongest people I've ever met. But it was a reminder . . . "

"Of how close we came to losing her?" Danny guessed.

"And of how badly she was really hurt. She said . . . all the stuff O'Neil said to you in the elevator?"

Danny sighed. "I'd really hoped the bastard was exaggerating for my benefit. He wasn't, was he?"

"I'm afraid not, Danno. So then today, I stopped by to pick her up from physical therapy, and they had her hooked up to this tens unit, and Danny, I . . . I almost lost my shit. I mean, you could hear the current, and she'd let them turn it up too high, and you could see the muscle . . ." Steve stopped, swallowing hard. "For a minute there, I wasn't in the hospital in Hawaii . . . I was back in Afghanistan. There was an op . . . it's classified . . . but Danny I -"

"Hey, look at me," Danny commanded, putting a strong, steadying hand on Steve's shoulder. "She's okay, babe. She's well enough to torment me, even, with wiseass random comments about sleeping in your bed, which is an image that is now burned into my mind, thank you very much. I need brain bleach. She's okay. We've got her home, and we're going to take care of her now, yeah?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, partner. Damn, it's good to have you back. We've missed you. Let me tell you about the body parts that washed up . . . "

The evening passed quickly in conversation over Jax's risotto and then Longboards by the water.

Jax stood and stretched as the sun started to go down. "I have been a complete slug for over two weeks," she said.

"If recovering from severe injuries is being a slug, okay," Danny said agreeably.

"I know I can't run yet, but I can swim this weekend . . . I'm sure I can at least take a walk now," she said. "That stupid cut on my foot is completely healed and everything."

 _Walking on the beach . . . hey, that's an actual date-like activity,_ Steve's brain prompted.

"I'll walk with you," Steve offered. "It's unfamiliar . . . " he hesitated. She's been through a lot; maybe she needed some space. "Unless you wanted some time to yourself," he added quickly.

"Not at the moment," she said, smiling up at him.

"Well," Danny said, "I, for one, prefer to walk on nice, solid, non-shifting ground, so I'll leave you two surf and sand lovers to it." He gathered up the empties and waved them off as he headed back to the house.

"You're sure this is okay?" Steve asked. "I'm serious; if you need space and time to yourself . . ."

Jax reached out and grabbed his hand. "It's been far too dramatic around here the last twenty four hours. Let's do something completely cliche and normal for a change. Hold my hand and walk on the beach with me. Tell me stories of your reckless youth."

()()()()()()()()

Danny smiled as he watched Steve and Jax on their way back to the house. He had put in a phone call to Rachel and Gracie to say goodnight and work out plans to have Gracie for the weekend, then settled in to his favorite chair on the lanai with a cup of coffee.

He had to admit, his friends looked damn good together. Surprisingly so, considering that the height difference could have looked almost comical. Somehow, it didn't. Not even when Steve pulled Jax close to him and cradled her head against his chest . . . she didn't even quite reach his shoulder. Not even when he framed her face between his big hands and kissed her gently. They looked like a promotional postcard, Danny thought . . . Steve with those ridiculous muscles and ink, and Jax with her hair in riotous curls glowing in the setting sun.

Of course, the girls in promotional postcards usually wore bikinis, not oversized Navy t-shirts that hung halfway down to their knees. Still.

As they arrived back at the house, Jax followed her nose and made a beeline for the coffee.

"Sit," she said to Steve. "I'll bring you a cup. You and Danny have waited on me quite enough."

Steve sank down in a chair next to Danny.

"Wow," Danny said. "This is beyond Smitten Face . . . this is . . . Smitten Face with a side of goofy."

"Danny, that's one of the very few moments I've had with Jax that didn't involve someone getting shot at, not breathing, or fighting off a nightmare," Steve said.

"Remarkable," Danny said dryly. "And you're happy about it. Even more remarkable."

"Did I say it was good to have you back?" Steve grumbled at Danny. "I was wrong. It is terrible. You are terrible to have around."

"Of course he is," Jax said, handing Steve a cup of coffee. "That's why we love him."

()()()()()()()()


	16. Chapter 16

"I don't believe it," Steve mumbled, looking at the time on his cell-phone. "I overslept? I never oversleep."

He could smell coffee wafting up from the kitchen, and he could hear the quiet murmur of conversation between Danny and Jax, punctuated occasionally by a laugh. As usual, he was dressed and moving down the stairs in well under ten minutes.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes," Danny teased, as Steve entered the kitchen.

"I can't believe I overslept," Steve complained.

"If you call being ready to go a full thirty minutes before we need to oversleeping, okay," Danny said. "You must have needed it, babe, don't fight it. You've been through a lot these last few weeks, too, you know."

Jax handed him a cup of coffee, smiling up at him. Danny had the strangest sensation of time moving just a bit slower, as Steve took the cup, his fingers brushing hers, and bending to kiss her gently on the cheek.

"Good morning," he said, smiling.

"Whoa, whoa," Danny complained. "It is too early in the morning and I am far too jet lagged to deal with the two of you making . . . smitten faces at each other."

Jax flipped him off. "I'm going to get my boots," she said.

"Mature, Nolan," Danny said. As Jax left the room, he turned to Steve. "Really? Super SEAL? What about our discussion? Our agreement?"

"What are you talking about, Danny?" Steve said, exasperated.

"Okay, I saw you on the beach last night; and now this morning, right here in front of my very face, with the touching, and the kissing . . . did we or did we not agree that you would keep a certain distance? I can still see bruises, Steven," Danny lectured.

"Look, Daniel," Steve said, "Jax and I both agreed that you were . . . not wrong. There is plenty, plenty of distance, believe me. What you see right in front of your very face is all that's going on, trust me. For now."

"Okay," Danny said dubiously.

"Look, Danny," Steve said, a bit exasperated. "You don't see me doing anything that you don't do."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell don't look at Jax the way you do."

"And how is that, exactly, Danny?"

"Like you need to go take another cold shower."

"Oh," Steve said. "Well, there is that."

Danny threw back his head and gave a hearty laugh.

"What's so funny?" Jax asked as she returned to the kitchen, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Danny.

"Ah, look at you, all official in HPD blue," Danny said, neatly avoiding the question. "Congratulations, Jax. How do you like it so far?"

"Well, so far I've filed traffic reports and uploaded a month's worth of case files into the computer. But, I think today, I'm actually going to be cleared to ride medic at least," Jax said, lacing her boots.

"Wait, what?" Steve protested. "You didn't mention that yesterday."

"Didn't I?" Jax said innocently. "Must have slipped my mind."

"Yeah, slipped your mind as you were in physical therapy. Jax, it hasn't even been a week," Steve said.

She whirled on him, placing her hand flat against his chest and pushing him back against his kitchen cabinet. "And medic duty involves, at most, gearing up and sitting in an armored SWAT medic truck, and rolling out when the scene is clear. Which I am perfectly capable of doing, and in fact, have been perfectly capable of doing all week. So if I'm cleared today when I see Grover for intake, you can be damn sure that's what I'm going to do."

_What did she say? She said words after she shoved me against the cabinets. What were the words?_

Jax paused, smiled up at Steve, and added, "Okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay ku'uipo," he said agreeably, his hand curving around her hip.

"That's more like it," she said, nodding in satisfaction, holstering her weapon, and grabbing her badge and cell phone. "Let's roll, boys."

Danny smiled at Steve. "Oh, you're done, my friend. Done."

()()()()()()()()

After dropping Jax at HPD, Steve caught Danny up with the limited information they had on the nine body parts and potentially dead, missing, injured or ill-intentioned persons belonging to them.

"What a mess," Danny said. "No ideas at to what's going on?"

"Well, we have to assume drug trafficking or counterfeiting activity, so that's where we'll concentrate surveillance and increased tracking, but beyond that - no. It's damn frustrating. I'm glad you're back, Danno, we need your perspective on this."

As they walked into the squad room, Danny was greeted warmly by Chin, and was on the receiving end of an enthusiastic hug from Kono.

"Danny, I'm so glad you're back!" she exclaimed.

"Ah, the lovely Kono," Danny said, hugging her. "You just want me to pick up some of the load of this interminable paperwork."

Kono nodded seriously. "It's terrible, brah. Nothing but research." It was ironic that Kono was arguably the best of all of them at wrangling technology and wresting information out of the computers. Didn't mean she had to like it.

"Okay," Danny said, rubbing his hands together briskly. "Let's put it all up and see what we've got."

They reviewed the files once again, with Steve, Kono, and Chin each updating the files with the information they had gathered the day before.

They all stood staring at the information for a few minutes.

"Anything make sense?" Chin asked aloud.

Danny shook his head. "Nothing is jumping out at me so far. We don't even know for sure that any of these people knew each other."

"Okay," Steve sighed. "We've pulled as much as we can, to this point, from records. Let's assume that there is some sort of local connection - after all, their body parts were found here. Kono, work the Sandy's Beach angle. Of all of the local beaches, these parts were apparently dumped, or washed out, on the beach with the roughest surf. There could be a possible connection to a group or groups of surfers; it could be territorial. Or maybe they've seen something. Or, it could have been a deliberate effort to get rid of the evidence as quickly as possible. Either way, it could mean that a local has some information."

Kono nodded. "Makes sense, boss. Does this mean I get to surf on company time?" she asked, grinning.

Steve laughed. "If that's what it takes to get information, sure. But be careful. You find a lead, you do NOT follow up without plenty of back-up, got it? Chin," he said, turning to him, "I want you to follow up with old HPD cases. None of these nine suspects are under the age of fifty. Look back into the Yakuza of my dad's day; see if anything matches up. Talk to some of the guys still on the force, and if they're willing, some of those who have retired. Maybe something will ring a bell."

"Got it, Steve," Chin said. "I'll start reaching out to contacts right away."

"Okay, I'm going to follow up from the Interpol and intel angle - see if I can reach far and wide into international contacts. Maybe something is moving in Japan or Korea. If so, Naval Intel may be able to share information and leads," Steve said.

FInally, he turned to Danny. "Danno, you were assigned to my dad's case because you had fresh eyes and a fresh perspective. That's what I need from you now. We all grew up with knowledge of the Yakuza. I need you to look over our shoulders; take a second look at everything we do. You may see something that we overlook completely."

"You got it," Danny said.

Before they could get to their respective offices, Steve's phone rang.

"McGarrett," he answered; quickly holding up a hand to indicate that the other three should stand by for instructions. "Okay, we're on the way."

They could tell by the look on his face that the news wasn't good.

"What is it, boss?" Kono asked.

"Multiple shots fired at Kukui High School," he said, looking at Chin in disbelief. "SWAT is on the way there. The school is under lockdown; no idea what's happening."

The four quickly moved to grab Kevlar, rifles, and other gear.

"What do you think you're doing, Danny?" Steve asked. "You're on light duty. You still have stitches in your arm and leg, and there's no way that lung has completely healed."

"If you think for one minute that I'm going to sit here in the office while the three of you . . . _and Jax_ , for all we know . . . are going to the scene, you're crazy," Danny said, as he slapped the velcro closed on his vest and shoved three extra clips in the ammo pocket.

"Okay, okay," Steve said. "But I'm assigning you as Five-O tech and comms liaison with HPD SWAT, got it? You find the communications truck and you stay there, agreed? Or find Jax and keep her out of trouble."

"That, my friend, is like asking the sun not to shine," Danny grumbled. "Why do you think I'm so good at being your partner? It's because I've had experience with trouble magnets. I'll try to make sure she keeps her Kevlar on. Last time we were at a school shooting it ended up on a student."

Steve shook his head. He was starting to wonder if Kevlar was going to be standard issue school uniform, at the rate things were going.

"Okay people, let's roll," he said, fastening his Kevlar and grabbing his own sets of extra clips. "Kono, do you have the rifle? Good. You go with Chin in the SUV; Danny, you're with me in the truck."

()()()()()()()()

"I hate this," Danny said with quiet vehemence as they sped to the scene. "Of everything we do, I hate this the very most. And I can't even blame this on Hawaii. I hated this in New Jersey, too."

"I know, Danny," Steve said. Violence involving children unnerved him like nothing else. He couldn't even imagine how it must feel for Danny. Every child could easily be Gracie.

The campus was swarming with police, SWAT, and EMS vehicles when they arrived. Steve pulled the truck in close to Grover's SUV. He glanced at Danny to make sure that he wasn't pulling stitches getting out of the truck, and then covered the ground to Grover in a few long strides.

"Grover, what do we have?"

"Information is still trickling in," Grover said. "We got a call at 9:40, about twenty minutes after shift report and morning assignments. A student went to the librarian, said they thought they saw a gun in a backpack. The librarian alerted security, but before they could reach the library, shots were fired. The library has been physically barricaded - we assume with heavy shelves or tables. As you can see, the blinds were pulled immediately. The security camera is disabled. We're deaf and blind at the moment."

"Do we know the shooter or shooters?" Steve asked.

"No one has been identified. When the shelter in place order is given, each teacher goes behind locked doors with all students within their range of sight. They take roll and submit the roll to the main office. The principal, vice principal, and secretary are all in the main office, so they will do a head count. It will be quick but not instantaneous. When we have that information, that should narrow down who is in the library," Grover explained.

"Standard protocol," Danny said, nodding. "Any ideas on injuries?"

"No idea," Grover said grimly. "We need to make contact, but first priority was to establish perimeter. We had students in the parking lot . . . snagged a couple under the bleachers . . . teachers do the best they can but they can't possibly be everywhere at once. We needed to secure the scene and the entire campus."

"Okay, where do you want Five-O?" Steve said. "You call the shots on this one, Grover."

"I want you with me, McGarrett. We don't know that the shooter or shooters is a student. Could be anyone. Where do you think the rest of your team fits best?" Grover deferred to Steve.

"Kono, I want you out of sight with the rifle," Steve said. "I hate even the thought of it, but worst case scenario, you're our best sniper. But you take the order from me, and me alone, got it? Not Grover, not Duke, not the governor herself."

"Got it, boss," Kono said, quietly and discreetly picking up the rifle and moving at an unhurried pace across the campus.

"Chin, Danny, I want you at the perimeter. Chin, you probably know half of these families. Be a familiar face, keep them from panicking. Both of you, keep your eyes and ears open for anything wrong - a parent that is hiding something, an onlooker that has the wrong kind of interest," Steve directed.

"Okay, Grover, let's see if we can find out what we're up against here," Steve said. He couldn't resist scanning quickly to see . . . there she was. She and another medic were in a staging area with equipment that everyone was praying would go back to the base unused today. As if sensing his eyes on her, she turned and looked straight at him. They exchanged a quick nod and then both were back to the business at hand. The entire exchange took mere seconds.

Grover pulled out the bullhorn, double checked the straps on his Kevlar, and nodded to Steve. "Ready?" he asked.

Jax watched as Steve and Grover cautiously approached the corner of the building. They stopped while they were still out of sight range from the windows. Grover raised the bullhorn and pointed it in the direction of the library wall.

"This is Captain Grover, HPD. Let's concentrate on getting everyone situated safely, okay? I have Commander Steve McGarrett with me. He's a man with a direct line to the governor. He can make things happen, work out what you need. I'm going to give you a number to call, it's gonna come straight to me and McGarrett. Our main interest is in getting the folks that are with you in the library out safely; including you. Okay? Here's the number: 555-7812. Let's talk this out, get everyone what they need to go home safely."

Steve and Grover carefully made their way back to the SWAT command bus. Duke was waiting for them with a list of the faculty and students believed to be in the library.

"These are the nine students who were signed in to the library at the time; along with the librarian and a substitute teacher. All other students are accounted for; they are either on the roll within the sight and presence of a teacher, or they were among the strays we rounded up," Duke explained.

Steve motioned for Chin and Danny to join them at the command bus. "Chin, pull everything you can on the librarian, this substitute teacher, the nine students in the library, and the stragglers. Maybe someone knew not to be in the building today."

Chin nodded and sat down at a computer station indicated by Duke.

"Chin," Danny said, "pull the file on the teacher who was out today, too. Like Steve said - maybe someone knew not to be in the building."

"Good thinking, Danny," Steve said.

Grover's phone rang and everyone in the command bus fell silent. Grover pointed to two technicians who immediately began the process to try to trace the call. When they gave the signal, Grover answered. The phone was on speaker through the computers.

"This is Captain Grover," he said. "Who am I speaking with?"

"I want the other guy. McGarrett. The one you said could make things happen." The voice was young, male, and clearly panicked.

"This is Commander McGarrett. Are you in control of the situation in the library?" Steve said. "Who are we speaking with?"

"I didn't mean to shoot the lady," the young man said.

"Okay, son, we believe you. All of that can be worked out. The most important thing is to get everyone out safely before anyone else gets hurt. Can you tell us who was shot? Are they okay?" Steve said.

"It was the librarian lady. The girls are trying to get the bleeding to stop but it won't stop. The gun just went off, I didn't mean to shoot nobody."

"We can work all this out," Steve said. "How about I come to the door of the library, you hand me the gun, and everyone just walks out, okay? We can do that. It was an accident. Let's just take care of that and then no one else will get hurt and everyone will be home in time for dinner. What's your name, son? Can we call your parents to come meet us?"

"NO!" the boy shouted. "No, you don't go calling nobody. I need . . . I gotta think. Get somebody in here to fix up the library lady."

Grover shook his head. "Can we get the students out?" he asked quietly.

Steve nodded in agreement. "Tell you what; let us send someone in there to help the librarian; you let the other students leave, okay? Let's do that."

There was hesitation. "I'll let the girls go. They got nothin' to do with this. You send me a doctor or somebody, and I'll let the girls go. Show I've got honor."

Grover raised his eyebrows. "Okay, the kid clearly has some sort of agenda; 'they've got nothing to do with this'. And he's worried about honor."

"I think I know why," Chin said. He pointed to a file on the screen. "Of the students in the library, one has a record. Several misdemeanor drug charges, one B&E." Chin hesitated. "His intake officer noted Yakuza ink."

Steve took a deep breath. "Okay, so we may have a gang related situation. Initiation? Trying to move up in the organization?"

"Possibly," Chin said. "Or, possibly he's trying to get out and being threatened."

"That would fit with his insistence that this wasn't planned," Danny said. "If he was carrying the gun for protection."

"Okay, so do we take him up on his offer to let the female students go, and send a medic in?" Grover said.

"I think we have to," Steve said. "I'll go in. I can handle the medic stuff, and he seems willing to talk to me."

"Worth a try," Grover nodded.

They opened up the phone line again.

"It's about time, man," the young man said, his panic obviously rising.

"Okay, look, I'm going to come in and help the librarian, okay?" Steve said. "And we know you have honor, and that you'll let the girls go. Am I speaking with . . . " Steve glanced at the file open on Chin's computer, "Akoni? Is that you, son?"

"No way, man," Akoni said. "You're not coming in here. No cops. Send someone else. Send me a haole so I know they're not one of them."

"One of who, Akoni? Who are you afraid of? Is someone threatening you? Tell us, and we'll help you," Steve said.

"Just get someone in here," Akoni said, clearly terrified.

"Okay," Steve said, " we gotta move fast. He is clearly panicked, which may mean that librarian is in bad shape. He's asking for a non-native . . . my guess is that's the only way he can think of to ensure that a Yakuza or rival gang member doesn't get in there."

"The only non-native medic I have is Jax," Grover said.

"No way. Get someone from the hospital," Danny said immediately. "She's supposed to be on medical leave."

"There's no time, Danny," Steve said.

"And she'd cut off both your balls for having this conversation," Grover added. "She's cleared for medic duty, that's what she's doing." He stepped out of the command bus and waved Jax over.

She walked over quickly, climbing up the bus steps with graceful ease. "Boss?" she said, looking at Grover. She spared Steve a glance but decided that the thigh holster was just too damn distracting if she was going to do her job professionally.

"Our shooter claims that he's accidentally shot the librarian. He's asking for a non-native medic to come in; in exchange, he's going to let the female students leave," Grover updated her briefly.

"Okay," Jax said immediately. "Send me in."

"We'll send you with escort as far as we can. We'll have to take it from there and see. And we are going to wire you for video and audio, so we can get eyes and ears on this kid," Grover said, motioning to one of the technical officers. "Don't take in any gear marked HPD; make sure the only insignia you have on you is medic. He's adamant that he doesn't want a cop in there, and we don't need to do anything to spook him."

"You should know that we believe there is some sort of gang-related situation in all of this," Chin said, as the technicians quickly placed a hidden camera and microphone on Jax's ball cap. "We are working on the theory that he was carrying today because he was afraid, not because he had a premeditated malicious intent. He has indications in his file of being mixed up with the Yakuza. We assume that's why he's asking for a non-native; he doesn't know who to trust."

"He sounds panicked," Grover added, "so even assuming the first shot was accidental, that doesn't mean there won't be more. Do not take off your Kevlar under any circumstances."

"Got it," Jax said, doing a quick double check of her bag.

She turned and looked up at Steve. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her.

 _Be a damn professional,_ he told himself sternly.

"What intel do you need?" she asked, checking her cargo pockets: bone shears, Israeli-issue tourniquet, QuikClot combat gauze. Not a bit of it standard protocol.

 _Unbelievable. Incredible,_ his brain offered. _Holy shit, she's amazing. You imbecile; you should have snagged her for Five-O. Wait, she asked you a question. There was a question. INTEL._

"My gut tells me this kid is not acting anywhere near his own volition. Find out who or what is really behind what happened today. He might be terrified of giving information to law enforcement, but he might open up to you," Steve said. He hesitated, then added, "I'm hoping he'll give up the gun to get you in the room. If not, see if you can get a clear window of opportunity to safely disarm him." He ignored Danny's glare of disapproval at that instruction.

Jax nodded. "You got a name for this kid?"

"Akoni," Danny answered. "Do not try anything heroic here today, Jax. Please. Play it safe, okay?"

"Okay, Danny," Jax said agreeably. Danny knew she didn't mean a word of it. "I'm set," she said, nodding to Grover and Steve. The technicians indicated that the audio visual feed was working.

Grover opened the line to Akoni once more. "Alright, Akoni, we have a medic ready to come in and help you. Let's get those girls out first, how does that sound?"

Akoni hesitated. "Yeah, okay, I'll send the girls out."

Steve nodded to Grover. "This is good, he thinks he's making decisions. Keep him thinking he's in charge. How many girls, Chin?" he asked.

"Six of the nine students. So that just leaves three students, the sub, and the librarian," Chin answered. "That's a much better situation to deal with."

Grover addressed Akoni again. "Tell us what door you're going to send them out, Akoni, because we'd like to have some people there, if that's okay."

"They'll come out the cafeteria doors to the picnic tables," Akoni answered.

"Okay, we're going to send some officers to those tables, just to be there for the girls to come out," Grover said.

"They don't come near the doors," Akoni demanded.

"That's fine, son," Grover said. "What door do you want our medic to come in? Same one?"

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up. I'm sending the girls out now. Hurry up."

Grover addressed Duke. "Duke, take a small team to that courtyard outside the cafeteria. Bring the girls here when they come out; we need to verify ID on the remaining students and those two faculty members. Jax, once the girls are clear, you'll go in."

Steve tightened a loose strap on the back of Jax's Kevlar. "We'll cover you all the way to the doors. You'll go in, take an immediate left, the library will be the third door on your right. There are windows into the hallway so he will see you coming. That's where you'll be the most vulnerable," he said, checking all the other straps. "I don't like this, Grover, she could be walking into an ambush."

"Look, he's a scared kid who accidentally shot someone. He wants me there to fix the situation, whether he realizes it or not. I'll be fine," Jax said. Steve briefly let his hand drop to the familiar curve of her hip and rest lightly for a split second over the scar.

"Be careful," he said, as he checked the clip on his gun and reholstered it.

The small team moved quickly to the courtyard. The cafeteria doors opened and the six terrified young women came out, one of them with her hands covered in blood. Jax went to her immediately.

"Are you injured?" she asked, checking her over quickly.

"No," the shaking girl answered, "I was trying to stop the bleeding . . . he shot her! It was bleeding so much . . . " she sobbed.

"Okay, she might be in shock," Jax said to a young officer, "Make sure she gets checked out."

The officers took the small group of girls back to the command bus, leaving Duke and Steve in the courtyard with Jax. She shouldered her pack and winked at Steve.

"See you later," she said. "Let's get this settled so we can go home. I'm cleared to swim this weekend, I don't wanna work late." Steve watched through the glass doors as she entered the building, and stood for a few seconds after she turned out of sight.

"She'll be fine," Duke assured him as they quickly made their way back to the command bus.

Danny was seated in front of the audio visual feed. They could see that Jax was standing just outside the library. Akoni was anxiously looking through the windows into the hallway.

"That's Akoni?" Chin asked the student who had offered to stay and confirm the identity of the remaining students.

"Yes," she nodded. "Akoni Walea. He's been in my classes since seventh grade."

They could hear Jax's voice clearly over the audio. "Akoni, my name is Jax. I'm a medic. Can I come in and check out the situation?"

They could see Akoni with the gun trained on the door.

"He's all over the place," Chin said anxiously. "Look at him, he has no idea what he's doing."

"Is there anyone else in the hallway?" Akoni asked nervously.

"No, Akoni, it's just me," they heard Jax reply.

"Okay, then hurry up." Akoni kept the gun pointed at Jax as she entered the room. She scanned the room slowly so that they could get a visual. Three students were sitting in front of a bookcase. The librarian was lying on the floor in front of the desk, an alarming amount of blood pooled around her.

"Where's the substitute teacher?" Danny asked. "I see three kids and the librarian."

"You mean that man that was locked in the room with us?" the student asked.

Danny and Steve exchanged a glance.

"Yeah, isn't that a substitute teacher?" Steve asked, a curl of dread threading its way through his mind.

"I guess, but I've never seen him before. He sure didn't look like a teacher," the student answered.

"Chin," Danny asked urgently, "Who do you have listed as the sub?"

"Keliana Iona," Chin answered.

"Well, that man is definitely not Miss Iona," the student said.

"Okay, this is very important," Steve said, putting his hand lightly on the girl's shoulder. "Did he say or do anything unusual?

"Yes, he was totally creepy," the girl said. "He didn't even try to help Miss Kekoa, the librarian. He just sat there while Julia tried to help her. I think Akoni is afraid of him."

"Oh my God," Steve said, looking in horror at Danny. "We just sent Jax in there with this guy and we have no idea who we're dealing with."

"Okay, Chin, see if you can get a location on Keliana Iona. If she was supposed to be the substitute teacher today, we need to find out where she is," Grover said. "Steve, Danny, stay calm, there could be a logical explanation."

They stood fixed to the audio feed from Jax. She was apparently bending over the librarian, as they had a close up view of a very nasty wound in her calf. They saw Jax's hand reaching up slowly toward her cap, and then they had a complete view of the room as she set it gently on the desk.

"Good girl," Grover said approvingly. "She's got a great angle on the entire room."

Akoni alternated between waving the gun at the students and at Jax.

"Hurry and fix her up," he said.

"I'm doing that," Jax said calmly. "Akoni, look at me. This is a lot of blood and I know it looks scary, but the bullet went straight through. It didn't even break bone, okay? She's going to be just fine. The people in charge out there understand that this is an accident. So why don't we just call it a day? You've already let the girls go, why don't we just all walk out of here?" They could see Jax deftly applying a pressure bandage to the leg wound.

Akoni had whirled around, pointing the gun back at Jax.

"Let me think a minute, don't come in here telling me what to do," he said nervously.

"Okay," Jax said, "but we need to get her out of here, so she can get to the hospital."

"I thought you said she would be okay," Akoni said, clearly in panic.

"She will, but the sooner we get her to a hospital the sooner everyone out there will know that. She's going to need to be fixed up, Akoni. She's lost enough blood that she's unconscious. They'll need to close the wound, and then maybe give her some fluids. You need to make sure that happens for her, okay, so that people will understand this was an accident."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Akoni said.

"Now, look, I'm not strong enough to carry her out," Jax continued, her voice calm and steady. "So, why don't I get the guys to do a basket carry, they can take her out safely. I'll stay here with you, Akoni, and we can work this out, okay?"

Danny was frantically looking at the video feed. "I don't see any sign of the fourth male."

"He has to be behind the desk," Grover said. As if Jax could read their minds, they saw her hand reaching for the cap again. Her thumb obscured the camera for a moment as she settled it on her head.

The video feed once again showed a slow scan of the room.

"She's on it," Steve said, with some relief. "She's realized there's a person unaccounted for."

"How's that sound, Akoni? That gets all the students out, and the librarian out. That would just leave you and me, and the other teacher."

"Okay, there's our guy," Chin said, as the video feed revealed a man sitting against the wall behind and to the left of the desk.

"She's got to know something is off," Danny said, "any reasonable adult would have been trying to help the librarian, not leaving it to the students."

"Good," Jax was saying. "Okay, boys, come over here, I need to show you how to carry - what's your librarian's name? - Miss Kekoa? - okay, you're going to carry Miss Kekoa out in what we call a basket carry."

They watched as Jax showed two of the boys how to interlock their arms into a simple basket carry.

"That's perfect," she said. "Now, I need you to help me lift her, okay?" They could see that she was looking at the third student. "I'll get the side where she's injured, you get the other side, alright? Just behind her knee, and now up under her shoulder, perfect, you're doing great." Once they had her settled, Jax quickly added, "Okay, now it's important that you open all the doors and make sure these guys don't hit her head on the doors, okay?"

"Good, she's making sure all three boys get out," Grover said.

She turned toward the doors so that the team could see the boys safely exit the library. They heard her sigh of relief as the doors closed behind them.

Duke and several officers, along with the other two medics, rushed toward the courtyard, while Grover, Steve, Danny, and Chin remained in the bus with their eyes glued to the video feed.

Steve spoke quietly into his radio. "Kono, are you in position?"

"Yes, boss," came back quickly into his ear piece.

"Okay we have a completely unknown person in the library with Jax and the kid. We have to assume he could be a hostile, possibly even behind this whole thing. Stay ready. If they come out you may need to take a shot."

"Got it," Kono replied.

Jax was addressing Akoni, but had angled her head toward the unknown man. He had taken a standing position now, leaning casually against the wall. "Akoni, you did great," Jax said. "We've got all the students out safely; that's what everyone wants. Why don't you just hand me the gun, and this teacher and I will walk out with you, okay? I know you've been talking to the people in charge. I can call them on that phone and tell them that everything is fine now. No one else has to get hurt today."

"I'm so sorry," Akoni replied, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"We understand that," Jax said. She had turned to face the man. "Don't we . . . I'm sure you saw what happened, and you'll let people know that Akoni just made a terrible mistake here today, right?"

Jax made sure that the video feed showed a clear, full, picture of the man's face. He was practically sneering at her.

"Chin, run facial recognition," Steve said, as he realized what Jax was doing. "She's trying to get us to ID this guy."

She tilted her head down slightly, and they could see his muscular forearms, his sleeves rolled up to reveal several tattoos.

Grover and Danny looked at each other in alarm.

"What?" Steve demanded. "What is it?"

"MS-13," Danny said tersely.

"What?" Steve asked. "What's an MS-13?"

"Mara Salvatrucha," Grover answered. "One of the most ruthless gangs we ever encountered in Chicago."

"Same in New Jersey and New York," Danny added.

"Shit," Chin supplied. "Does Jax recognize the ink, Danny?"

"Oh yeah, she knows," Danny said. "That's why she made sure we got a good look. Did you get anything on facial recognition?"

"Not yet," Chin said, "It's still searching. I went ahead and set it to cross-reference with TSA, maybe we can get an idea of where this guy came from and when he got here."

There was still tense silence from Jax's audio video feed. She had turned to face Akoni again.

"I'm really, really sorry, lady," he said again, holding the gun uncertainly, and unsafely, pointed at her.

"It's okay, Akoni," Jax said. "Got yourself into something bigger than you bargained for, didn't you?"

"He said he would kill my sister, lady, you gotta believe me," Akoni started. They could see Jax's hand go up in warning and he fell silent.

Jax had turned to face the other man.

"Okay, what's your end game? You've got me, why don't you let Akoni head on out to the others. Let's talk about what you want," she said, her voice still steady and clear.

Steve watched in disgust as the man reached toward Jax.

"Ah, chica, I see someone's already had a bit of fun with you, haven't they?" he said.

"Don't see how that's relevant to your situation, asshole," Jax said. "Tell me what you want, let the kid go. The police will appreciate that you let the student walk out. You don't need him, you've got me."

"You're sure you're more valuable? Why is that? What makes you so special?" the man sneered.

"I'm just saying, you'll get more leverage if you let the kid go. Makes things look better for you," Jax answered, not taking the bait.

"See, Akoni," the man sneered, "What did I tell you? She's no paramedic, she's police. That's how she knows what the police will think. I told you, they can't be trusted. Those promises they made to protect you? You sure you want to trust them? Or do you believe me now?"

"I'm just a paramedic," Jax said. "Let me get out my ID, I'll show you."

There was a blur of movement then, and the sickening sound of the crack of bone against bone, followed by another blur and a loud thud which resonated throughout the bus. The video feed now showed nothing but the tangle of Jax's red curls.

"Damn it, he's taken her out," Steve said, pacing around the bus. "She was probably going for her back-up and he anticipated it."

Grover stared at the screen in disbelief. The silence was broken when his phone rang.

"Grover," he said tersely. "Who am I speaking with?"

"Ah, not your little friend Akoni, I assure you," the man said. Grover snapped his fingers at his technicians, who immediately began tracing the call. They pointed to the number that came up on the screen - Akoni's cell number. Nothing useful.

Grover glanced toward the computer running facial recognition. Chin shook his head. Nothing there, either.

"Here's what is going to happen now, gentlemen. I know this is one of your people. I know how this works. You thought you could send in this pretty little thing to talk sweet to the scared kid, and everything would be fine, right? Well, as usual, pigs, you've underestimated the Mara Salvatrucha."

"No doubt," Grover said, attempting to calm the man. "Now, tell us what we need to do to get everyone out safely. Why don't you let the kid go? You know he's a loose cannon in there, not helping your cause."

"Oh, but he's made life interesting; after all, it was his stupidity and carelessness that gave me the opening to get this beautiful young woman to come join me. I wasn't sure how I would get one of yours; I thought I might have to be more creative. But you hand-delivered her to me."

"She's a paramedic; a civilian," Grover said. "But I'll gladly switch places with her. I'm a police captain, a SWAT team leader. You want one of mine, why not take me?"

"You think I don't know how this works? You think I wasn't watching the whole time? Please, don't insult me, el Capitan, or I might lose my temper. Now, I'm going to take your little redhead here, and I'm going to go out the back where I have a car waiting. And you're going to do nothing, because I have explosives planted all over this school building. All of the students are sheltered in place, yes? You want to have all of their blood on your hands?"

Chin flagged their attention to the screen. They had an identification: Roberto Miranda, 43, wanted in four states for drug trafficking, and suspected of two counts of murder. He had apparently fled to the islands and arrived Tuesday.

"He's MS-13 and gets here the day before we find a bunch of Yakuza body parts in the ocean?" Steve said incredulously. "I'm not liking the odds of that being a coincidence. And if he's been here since Tuesday, that means he's definitely had enough time to plant explosives and plan this."

Grover spoke calmly into the phone as Steve paced behind him. "Why don't you just leave the paramedic and the student behind? You can go out the back, just like you planned. It will be easier to make a clean getaway without them. Especially if the paramedic is injured."

Danny sat down in a chair with a thud and ran his hands through his hair. He stared at the video feed in disbelief. They could still only see the mass of curls obstructing the camera. No movement.

"They go with me. Stop pushing."

"Okay, fair enough," Grover said. "What next? We'd like to get the student and the paramedic out safely." Steve noted that Grover was tenaciously refusing to acknowledge Miranda's assumption that Jax was law enforcement.

"I have something you want, you have something I want," Miranda said. "We make a trade."

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere," Grover said. "What is it that you want?"

"I have a cousin in custody in Halawa," Miranda said. "Isn't that the 'island way'? Take care of family? Well, I want my family released."

"We might be able to work something out," Grover said. "Give us a name."

"Not yet," Miranda said. "I get out of here safely. Then I'll call you, we set up the trade. I see a cop, anyone tries to get in the way, I blow the building."

Steve spoke quietly on the radio to Kono again. "Kono. Get around to the back of the building. Stay completely out of sight. Use the scope, tell me if you see a car waiting."

"Here's our next problem," Grover said. "We've got to get dogs and bomb squad out here without creating a public panic. How do we do that?"

"Dress the bomb squad and gear the dogs in DEA gear," Danny suggested. "Let the public think we've got a massive marijuana stash in the school. Minimize the panic."

"That works," Grover said, nodding approvingly. "Sounds like you've tried this before."

"Keliona Iona, the woman who was supposed to be the substitute teacher, has just been located," Chin interrupted. "She is in one of the classrooms with a group of students. She said that moments before the lockdown, a man she did not recognize threatened them, grabbed her id, and shoved her and the students into the classroom and barricaded it from the outside."

"He signed in with her name to throw us off and buy time," Steve said. "How does the kid figure into this? Miranda obviously threatened him to get him to cooperate; threatened to kill his sister."

"Yeah, that would make sense. If MS-13 is moving in, they're trying to take over Yakuza business. So he threatens this kid who's just barely associated with the Yakuza. The kid sneaks the gun into the school. Miranda was probably planning to get the gun and take hostages. When someone sees the gun, the kid panics, so Miranda just sits back and lets it play out. Throws us completely off our game, because we think we're dealing with a scared punk, when in fact we've got a seasoned criminal. He's been playing us the whole time; pulling Akoni's strings. We played right into his hands, gave him Jax as a hostage," Danny said.

"He had a teacher and nine students," Steve said, "Why did he want Jax?"

"MS-13 has a particular hatred of law enforcement," Grover said grimly. "And this guy is a sick son of a bitch who wants to prove a point."

"You think he's bluffing about the bombs?" Steve asked.

"Quite possibly," Grover said, "but we have to assume he isn't. Damn it, he has an entire high school hostage."

Grover stopped, pointed at Steve. He opened the line to Miranda.

"Okay, we will be ready for your instructions. You can leave the paramedic and the student in the library. You have the entire building full of students and teachers. You don't need them. We won't make a move; we're not going to risk all of those kids."

"Nice try, pig," Miranda said. "We do this my way. Or I'll just shoot your girl, shoot the kid, and blow up the school on my way out the back. You'll hear from me when I'm ready to make the trade."

"Kono," Steve said urgently into his radio. "Are you in position?"

"Yeah, boss, I'm well out of sight but I've got eyes at the back gym entrance. There's a black SUV, no plates, parked by the door."

"Okay, we've got a different situation than we thought. The kid was being threatened and manipulated by a rival gang member; a smart one. He's claiming he has bombs placed around the school and he's threatening to blow it if he sees law enforcement. His plan is to keep the kid and Jax as hostages, get to a secure location, arrange an exchange with a prisoner at Halawa. If you get a clear shot, take it. Got that?"

"Copy that, boss," Kono said; grim determination filling her voice.

"We could rush him at the back," Steve said.

"We risk an entire school full of kids," Grover answered.

"Damn it," Steve muttered, pacing. "We can't just sit here and let him walk out the door."

Danny was still watching the video feed. "There's movement," he said, indicating the screen.

Someone had kicked the wired ball cap aside, and they could see a much wider angle of the room. Jax lay motionless on the floor. They could see a pair of canvas sneakers pacing back and forth.

"That's gonna be the kid," Grover said.

A large black boot nudged at Jax, turning her over so that her face was turned toward the camera. Her eyes were closed and she was motionless, blood trickling from a cut on her lip and her nose, her jaw and cheek swollen and already turning purple.

"Shit, shit, shit," Danny swore quietly.

The boots walked closer to the sneakers and they heard another crack, then saw Akoni fall motionless to the ground next to Jax.

"He took the kid out," Grover said, "must have decided he would slow him down after all." They watched as hands reached down and grabbed Jax by the waistband of her cargo pants and hauled her roughly up. The black boots crossed the line of sight of the camera and moved away, a few spatters of blood dropping on the floor behind him.

"Kono can take out the tires and we can take him at the back of the school," Steve suggested.

"We risk Jax and the entire student body if we try that," argued Grover.

"We're gonna just let him walk away with her? We don't know where he's going, Grover. We don't know what he's gonna do. He's got an entire building full of students; she could be expendable," Steve shouted, pacing.

"He's taking her for a reason, Steve," Grover said, "if he wanted her dead he could have killed her or left her behind. He wants her as insurance during the exchange. We wait for his call, then make our move, once he's well away from this campus."

Steve shoved a chair under the computer station, turned, and stepped out of the bus. He slammed his fist against the side of the bus and swore.

"Kono, what do you have?" he said into his radio.

"Boss, he has Jax's hands zip tied; tossed her in the back of the SUV and headed north. I couldn't get a clear shot or follow without being seen," Kono said.

"Hey, partner," Danny said, coming out behind him. "We're gonna get her back."

Grover came slowly down the steps. "Steve, I'm sorry this is going sideways. I know you have a personal interest in Jax. Remember, she's one of mine, too. I have no intention of letting this bastard hurt her. But I answer to the people of Honolulu, and I answer to every parent of every one of those students. I have to follow protocol."

"I know, Grover," Steve said, sighing and scrubbing his hand over his face. "Okay, what's next?"

"Next, we get the bomb squad and the dogs in here. I've already called them. We're following Danny's idea, and they're gearing up in DEA uniforms. As far as the parents know, we're just checking out the school for drugs," Grover said.

"And wait for his call," Steve said. "I hate this."

"Me too, partner," said Danny.

Within ten minutes, the campus was swarming with bomb squad personnel dressed in DEA uniforms; the dogs eagerly sniffing.

"We have located seven charges," the sergeant reported to Grover. "All of them are set with what looks to be a cell phone remote charge."

"Can you diffuse them without triggering an explosion?" Steve said.

"We are looking in to that, Commander," the officer replied.

"Gentlemen," Chin said, motioning for Steve to come to the computer, "We have a lead. One of the students said that Miranda placed a cell phone call and she overheard a name: Mariano Matamorous."

"Sounds like the name of a ship," commented Steve, "so he plans to leave by water."

"You're smiling. I do not understand why you're smiling, and it worries me," said Danny. "I've seen that smile; it usually comes right before you take off your shirt and do something crazy."

Steve shrugged and continued to smile. "Danno, we didn't know we were dealing with an experienced gang criminal. He may not know he's dealing with a Navy SEAL. The odds may have just tipped a little."

"Not so fast, Steve," Chin interrupted. "We have a lead, but we also have a huge problem. Lucas Tomass was killed in lock-up yesterday. I seriously doubt we would have been given approval for the exchange. Tomass was convicted on six counts of brutal murder. There's no way he would have been released."

"Well, then our plans just got really simple," Steve said. "No exchange, just a straight up rescue mission. Preferably with Miranda taken alive, so we can try to find out what the hell is going on with MS-13 moving onto the island. The only lead so far is the name of a ship, so we follow that hard, see if we can get a head start on a location. Then we bluff our way through an exchange if we have to."

"Tomass was native," Chin pointed out. "From a distance, I could pass."

"Okay, good," Steve said. He pointed at Grover. "HPD and SWAT cleans up here. We're going after Jax and Miranda."


	17. Chapter 17

The team raced back to the palace to track the Mariano Matamorous and collect additional gear.

"Danny," Steve said, glancing over at his partner, "you don't look so good, buddy. I think you should stay in the office, run intel and coordinate for us."

"No." Danny was adamant. "No way in hell, Steven."

"Danny, listen; you are just one week out from serious injury. You've got two major sets of stitches, and I don't know how your lung is, but a week ago, it was collapsed. Collapsed, Danny, and it had to be surgically stitched back together."

"Yes, I recall, Steve," Danny said sarcastically. "I won't jeopardize the safety of the team but I am not staying in the office."

"Danny . . ." Steve began earnestly.

"No," Danny interrupted. "If it was Mary? Would you stay in the office? Seriously?"

Silence.

"No," Steve sighed. "Okay, Danny. But please, be careful," he added as they got out of the truck.

"Get anything you can on the Mariano," Steve called to Kono as they entered the building.

He headed straight for the armory as the rest of the team took the elevator to the second floor. The scent of gun oil brought back the memory of Jax sitting on the table, cleaning the handgun. Grabbing the edge of the table with both hands, he tried to clear his head.

 _Conflict of interest,_ his brain supplied helpfully.

He rubbed his hand over his face, took a deep breath, and grabbed what he needed.

Five minutes later he strode into the squad room. Danny thought he recognized the smoke bomb and grenade shaped lumps in Steve's cargo pockets, and for once didn't comment.

"What do we have?" he asked, as Kono and Chin quickly put files up onto the plasma screens.

"Good news for starters - HPD bomb squad was able to disarm all of the explosives. Students and faculty are being evacuated as we speak," Chin said.

"Well, there's no record of a Mariano Matamorous, which would have me worried," said Kono, her fingers flashing over the touch screens, "but the harbor master at Honolulu Harbor is reporting a Handymax cargo docked without authorization at Pier 15; it caught his attention because locals and frequent users have been avoiding Pier 15, since 16 has been closed due to that sunken vessel that has yet to be reclaimed. And HPD just called in a black SUV with no plates, left abandoned at the edge of the pier block."

Steve enlarged the map of the harbor and jabbed his finger resolutely on Pier 16. "I insert there."

"Steve," Chin started to protest.

"It's the best shot we have. If Miranda realizes that Tomass is already dead, he plays us right into an ambush. The kids and teachers are safe. We move now and we move fast, and the best way to do that is for me to board that ship undetected. If he's abandoned the SUV that has to be his play. I get in there and take him out," Steve insisted.

"Okay, so what do we do if and when he calls Grover to set up an exchange?" Danny asked. "And also, what, are we supposed to sit here on our asses while you go in, Rambo style, without backup?"

"Grover plays along, sets up the exchange, buys some time. And no, I want you providing surveillance and communication, Danny, so that we're not going in blind, and I want Kono in position with a rifle and Chin as back-up. But we don't take SWAT or HPD, not right away. We stage a small unit on Sand Island as back up. We can't risk tipping him off," Steve said, double checking his gear. Kono noticed that he waited until Danny was looking away before discreetly added a fistful of gauze pads and pressure bandages to one of his pockets. "And no one takes off their Kevlar for any reason, got it?"

()()()()()()()()

They left their vehicles behind the huge dry dock at Pier 10 and made their way on foot, careful to maintain cover, until they reached the abandoned SUV. Kono identified it as the one Miranda had waiting behind the school. With Danny and Kono covering, Steve and Chin checked the vehicle. Chin indicated a significant amount of blood on the back seat, and Steve nodded grimly.

Danny split off from the group and made his way to the harbor master's office, where he could monitor all of the security cameras and feed information to the rest of the team.

They had determined that the catwalk outside the dry dock would be the ideal place for Kono to set up. From five stories up, she would have a bird's eye view of the small cargo vessel docked at Pier 15, as well as the surrounding piers and water.

Steve and Chin ducked behind a small utility building at Pier 16. It was as close as they could get without risking being seen from the Mariano Matamorous. He watched Steve place his boots, Sig, and the contents of his cargo pockets into his waterproof diver's bag. "You sure about this, Steve?" he asked, his face reflecting nothing but his usual calm.

"I'd be an arrogant son of a bitch to say it was foolproof," Steve said, shoving the first aid supplies in the bag. "But in my experience, this is our best chance for a good outcome."

"A good outcome that includes Miranda alive?" Chin asked, unflappable.

"A good outcome that includes Jax alive," Steve answered. "If we get intel out of Miranda, even better." He held his finger against his ear. "Danny, Kono - check in. I'll be in the water for about five minutes."

"Nothing on the security cameras," Danny reported.

"No movement on the deck of the ship or the surrounding pier," Kono added.

"How will I know if you need backup?" Chin asked.

Steve flashed that boyish, shit-eating grin that made Chin think of the days, years ago, when Steve was a cocky, self-assured high school quarterback. "You'll know, because if I don't come off that ship with Jax, all hell is gonna break loose and I'll need you and Kono to save our hides."

Chin watched as Steve slipped into the water and disappeared.

They all waited, tension building, for the five minutes that felt like hours. Steve was an experienced diver and swimmer, but with a sunken ship below the surface, the potential for injury was increased exponentially. Finally, they heard the faint rustle that indicated he was safely on board the Mariano.

"I'm on board. No sign of Miranda or Jax. Any movement?" They heard Steve quietly speak into the comm link.

"Negative," Kono replied.

"Miranda contacted Grover," Danny reported quietly. "Gave him this location, thirty minutes, for the prisoner exchange. No read on whether or not he knows Tomass is dead."

"Copy," Steve murmured.

They heard nothing. Danny used to find the silence unnerving, until he became accustomed to the fact that for someone of considerable size, Steve could move with remarkable grace and be completely undetectable when he wanted. None of them doubted for one moment that given the opportunity to face Miranda one on one, Steve would easily get the upper hand.

Steve took a moment to put on his boots and quietly holster his Sig. The Handymax was relatively small, as cargo ships go, but it was still a considerable amount of space to cover. He moved swiftly toward the radio room. It's where he would go - communication, best vantage of visibility, though thankfully that was relatively limited. As he made his way silently towards his goal, he scanned for any indication of Miranda's movement, and was rewarded when he caught a glimpse of blood splatter.

Sure enough, the small splatters of blood led him straight to the radio room. There was a distinct smudge of a bloody handprint on the frame of the door - a small handprint. Jax had somehow managed to leave a clear signal for him; he hoped without detection. He could hear Miranda talking; in Spanish, so he presumed it was to one of his colleagues. He risked looking in the tiny window. Miranda had his back to the door, a pair of binoculars raised to his eyes as he scanned the pier. Good. He hadn't anticipated someone boarding the ship from the water.

Jax was seated facing the door, her hands still zip tied. She was slumped forward. Steve thought she was unconscious, until he noticed her hands moving slowly toward one of the pockets of her cargo pants. He grinned as she silently gripped the bone shears, keeping the handle hidden in her hands and the blades still in the pocket. She looked up, barely moving her head, her eyes meeting his through the curtain of curls hanging over her face. Blood was still dripping from her nose and her split lip, which they had seen on the video feed from the school. The gash over her left eye was new, and deep, and Steve clenched his jaw in anger. She still managed a wink and a lopsided grin, and he saw her grip the shears in determination.

For a moment, Steve thought that for once, all the odds might tip in their favor, and that he might pull this off and get Danny back in time to pick up Gracie after school.

Then, he tried the door, discovered it locked, and heard both Danny and Kono's voices in his ear.

"Movement, coming your way," they said, almost in unison. Kono deferred to Danny since he was the one sitting in front of the security cameras.

"You've got a second black SUV headed straight onto Pier 15," Danny said, his voice urgent but calm.

Realizing he had only moments before he was outnumbered and in a completely different situation, Steve shot out the lock on the radio room door and kicked it violently open.

In the split second it took him to level his Sig at Miranda, the man had his muscled forearm wrapped in a chokehold around Jax's neck, pulling her viciously up off the chair and held firmly in front of him. As she was pulled into an upright position, her hands pulled the bone shears out of her pocket. She kept them firmly gripped, her eyes fixed calmly on Steve.

 _That's my girl,_ Steve's brain cheered.

The thought briefly crossed his mind, that he should demand that Miranda surrender, that he should warn him of his impending arrest . . . and then he saw him pull a weapon . . . _Jax's backup_ . . . and any thoughts of procedure and arrest went straight out the window. Steve cut his eyes to the left, counting on Jax to somehow accurately interpret his signal, despite the fact that the only time they had worked together she'd been unconscious for most of it.

It worked.

Jax took a desperate, awkward jab toward Miranda's ribs with the bone shears gripped in her zip tied hands. The tips were blunt, but she managed to get enough force behind it to loosen Miranda's grip around her neck. She tilted her head and felt the bullet graze through the edge of her curls before it tore through Miranda's shoulder. He released his hold on Jax and grabbed for his shoulder as she jammed her elbow back with as much force as she could, knocking him off balance backward. He hit the deck with a resounding thud as Jax fell forward, catching herself on her elbows and forearms.

Steve had Miranda facedown, his knee planted firmly in his lower back, and had just fastened the cuffs around his wrists when he heard Danny speaking urgently.

"Steve, you've got four coming out of the SUV and moving toward the ship; and a second SUV headed your way. Do you have Jax?"

"Affirmative, call HPD to come in for back-up. Miranda is neutralized," Steve said, turning to see Jax, her reclaimed backup in hand, impatiently holding her hands out to him to cut through the zip ties.

She was bruised and bloody, and clearly concussed. Steve whipped a ridiculous combat knife out of his boot and sliced through the zip tie with a flick of his wrist.

 _Well, damn,_ her brain chimed in. She blamed the concussion.

Cradling her head in his hands, he winced as he felt the huge lump on the back of her head, dangerously close to the one she had sported from her assault in New York. "Can you see straight enough to shoot?" he asked, grabbing a QuikClot gauze pad and pressing it against the cut over her eye, "because we're about to have company."

She racked the slide of the Taurus 1911, the back up that Steve had selected for her, and squared her shoulders. "I'm good for now," she said. "Why the hell aren't you wearing your vest?" she added, as she fell in behind him, covering his six as they exited the radio room.

Before Steve could answer, a bullet ricocheted off the wall inches from them, and then it was a blur of motion as all hell broke loose.

By the time it was all said and done, the score was Five-O and SWAT nine, MS-13 zero.

Kono carefully collected her spent brass and gracefully climbed down the five story catwalk. She helped the SWAT officer cuff the four gang members who had made the grave error of attempting to shoot Chin as he moved into position to provide back-up. Knowing that they needed as much information as possible on this new threat to the island, she'd had the presence of mind to clip them in the shoulder or knee; though it had taken great restraint and when one of them had the audacity to leer at her, her handgun pressed to his head reminded him easily that really, she could remedy that quite easily.

Chin stood grimly over the bodies of two more shooters. They'd made it dangerously close to Steve and Jax. The crime techs were going to complain about having to sort out the Sig, Taurus, and shotgun bullets. They would be getting no information from these two.

Grover and another SWAT officer had two more MS-13 members cuffed and shoved against the back of one of the bullet-ridden unmarked SUVs.

"Danny?" Jax asked, searching through the mayhem. It caught Steve's attention, and he looked around quickly. Jax could barely see straight, so of course she'd have trouble seeing Danny.

"DANNY?!" she said, an edge of panic creeping into her voice. Apparently Steve couldn't see Danny, either.

Steve propped Jax up against Chin. "I'm going to find him," he said, shoving another clip into his Sig and taking off. Jax started after him but was gently restrained by Chin.

"There he is, Jax, he's okay," he said, pointing toward the end of the pier, where Danny was marching the ninth and final gang member ahead of him. Steve holstered his weapon and moved toward Danny.

"Thank you, Steven, I've got it," he said, irritably.

Steve grinned. "Okay, then, book him, Danno." He frowned when he saw blood soaking through Danny's shirt sleeve. "You okay, partner?" he asked.

Jax had slipped away from Chin, and reached them just as Danny shoved his prisoner at Grover. She reached out a shaky hand toward Danny's arm. "Are you hit?" she asked, immediately going after shears and cutting away his shirt sleeve before he could even answer.

"Tore the stitches," he gritted out, as she pressed gauze against the wound. "Ow. I'm fine. What the - Jax, stop - what's going on here? Is all of this yours? I didn't think it was possible, but it's true. You are more of a trouble magnet than Steve," he said, trying to wipe some of the blood away from her face. Steve waved over one of the paramedics on the scene.

"'You trained me, Danno," she retorted. "And think about it? What do Steve and I have in common? You. I'm fine, really." It would have been more convincing if she hadn't been deathly pale with blood pouring down her face.

"No, you're not," Steve said. "You're concussed, ku'uipo, and you've gotta go get checked out. I think you might need a couple of stitches over that eye, too."

"C'mon super SEAL," she said, looking up at him and swaying slightly. "Dermabond and butterflies. Please? Just take me home."

That sounded like a really, _really_ good idea, but the slightly slurred speech and obvious loss of balance spooked him enough to shake his head no.

He relieved her of her weapons as Danny smirked. Probably a good idea, in case she took it into her head to really get pissed about being sent to the hospital. The paramedic jogged up to them.

"Sir?" he said respectfully to Steve, thanking all of his lucky stars that the SEAL wasn't the one injured this time. He hated trying to convince that man to get into an ambulance. It usually ended with medical equipment on the ground, a lot of blood on his uniform, and Steve stalking away holding a fistful of gauze against whatever fresh hole had been put in his body. This patient was tiny. Shouldn't be a problem.

"These two need to get checked out. Detective Williams has torn some stitches that are barely over a week old. He also has a recent lung injury so make sure that's checked. Officer Nolan probably has a concussion, and then the laceration which is obvious. She also had a wicked nosebleed; not sure if it was from a direct hit, or secondary to her head hitting the floor."

The paramedic nodded and watched as Jax scowled and pulled out a handful of . . . was that QuikClot combat gauze? And those were not standard issue bone shears. He started rethinking his initial assessment of her as an easy patient.

"Should we head to Tripler, sir?" he asked, as Danny gently pressed another layer of gauze against the still-bleeding cut over Jax's eye.

"Chin?" Steve called over the general din of HPD and medics. "Malia working today?"

"Yeah," Chin answered. "She's on shift right now in the ER. I'll call ahead."

Steve turned back to the paramedic. "Nah, take them to Queens, please. Dr. Waincroft will be waiting for them."

As Danny started to protest, Steve held up his hand. "I'll call Rachel. She'll hear the words 'school shooting' and 'no students injured' and she'll be fine."

Grover appeared at Jax's side, cupping her face gently in his huge hand and turning it up to him.

"Well, kid, you almost made it an entire week," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry you got hurt. Maybe I didn't make the right call, sending you in."

"Made the call you had to, boss," Jax said. "M'fine." She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, and then added, "Hey, I don't hafta' go to th'hospital if you say I don't. I'm SWAT, not Five-O."

Grover shook his head. "Are you for real right now, Officer Nolan?"

"Boss?" she said, tilting her head quizzically.

"Go. Get in the ambulance right this minute, officer. Danny, you're riding with her, right?" Grover said, glancing in concern at the blood still steadily seeping through the gauze on his arm.

"Yeah, I'll make sure she behaves. Hey, can she have the rest of the day off?" he said, gently nudging her in the direction of the ambulance.

"The whole weekend," Grover said.

"Go get checked out. I'll come as soon as I can, then take you and Danny home, okay?" Steve said, brushing her curls out of her face.

She nodded miserably. Her head really did hurt. Again.

"M'sorry," she mumbled in the direction of Steve and Grover.

"What on earth for?" Steve asked.

"For letting him get the drop on me," she said. "Shoulda known . . . would'na ended up . . . " she gestured vaguely at the chaos-filled scene.

"No way," Grover said emphatically. "None of this is on you, Officer Nolan."

"Students?" she said, swaying on her feet as a wave of nausea threatened to overtake her.

"Safe. Every single one," Grover said.

The paramedic almost caught Jax as she keeled over, but Steve was faster. He carried her to the ambulance and put her gently on the gurney.

 _Whatever_ , thought the paramedic; _I could have done that, no problem_. You didn't need to be a muscle-bound ex-Navy SEAL to pick up a little wisp of a thing like this . . . officer, apparently, although that seemed highly unlikely.

Steve kissed Jax on the top of her head before they loaded the gurney into the ambulance. He hesitated, reluctant to turn her loose. He was pretty sure she'd just fainted from concussion and fatigue, but what if . . .

"She's okay, Steve," Danny said, cutting in to his thoughts and patting him sympathetically on the arm. "I'll stay with her. Malia will make sure she's well taken care of."

Steve nodded. "Okay. And get yourself taken care of, Danny. You make sure they check everything. I'll be by there as soon as I can."

The paramedic climbed in behind Danny, and Steve closed the door, thumping it soundly to signal the driver to pull away.

Grover sighed. "Well, this went FUBAR, but maybe we'll at least get some information about the Mara Salvatrucha on the island. Once they all get out of surgery. Do you know the paperwork we're going to have to do on this one? By the way, you're bleeding."

Steve looked down in surprise as Grover pointed to his forearm. A bullet, or a ricochet, had left a deep graze. "That's mine? I thought it was from Jax," he said, absently slapping some gauze on it.

"You people are unbalanced, you know that," Grover said, shaking his head as he walked away to begin processing the surviving gang members and arranging their transport.

Chin and Kono caught up to Steve. He anxiously looked over both of them. "You guys okay?" he asked, turning Kono by the shoulder to check her over.

"We're good, boss," she said, grinning at him. She was always happy after a successful gunfight, Chin thought. He really did worry about her. A lot.

"Danny and Jax okay?" Chin asked, concerned. "Malia was getting a room set up for them at the ER."

"Jax got another concussion when that bastard knocked her out, and Danny tore his stitches," Steve said, rubbing his hand across his face.

"Whoa, brah, looks like you're going to need a few yourself," Chin said, nodding at Steve's arm. It was starting to sting a little, now that they mentioned it.

"You should head on over to Queens, Boss, get that taken care of," Kono suggested, "and check on Danny. And Jax," she added, smirking.

"Yeah, okay," Steve agreed. "Hey, if we don't catch a case this weekend, come on over, enjoy some downtime." He loped off toward his truck, dialing Rachel's number as he went.

"That was remarkably easy," Chin noted. "We usually have to drag him to the hospital to get stitched up. And now we're stuck with helping clean up this mess, cuz."

"Eh, he's useless for paperwork when he's worried about one of us being hurt, you know that," Kono said, shrugging.

()()()()()()()()

Jax thought she heard a moan. Someone was in pain. She needed to wake up, figure out who it was, and help them.

"Hey, babe, I'm right here. Hold on, we're on the way to the hospital, okay?"

Danny? It was Danny talking. Was Danny hurt? She needed to check and see. She'd taken a lot of classes, after all, so if he was hurt, she could help him. That was the point of the classes.

She heard another low moan and fought to get her eyes open. That was weird, why should opening her eyes be a problem?

OH. Because when she opened her eyes the world spun around in wild circles, apparently.

"It's okay, babe - would you move? just let me, thank you - hey, it's okay, I'm right here."

Danny again. She tried opening her eyes. There were . . . four. Four Dannys. Okay, closing the eyes. Another moan. No, someone needs help. Get it together, Jax. She forced her eyes open again, and pain crashed over her like a wave. She bit back a moan . . .oh, so that had been her. Embarassing. She was SWAT, for crying out loud. Better hold it together, tough it out.

"Hey, who are you trying to impress, tough girl? It's just me," Danny said, taking her hand gently in his.

"'M'kay, Danny," she mumbled. "Wha' happen'?"

"What do you remember, officer?" said the paramedic, trying to shine a penlight in her eyes. Jax swatted his hand away irritably.

"There was . . . I was . . ." she hesitated, rubbing her hand over her eyes, frowning when it came away even bloodier. "Danny?"

"Right here, babe," he soothed. "It's okay, you passed out for a minute. It'll be okay."

"School," Jax said urgently. "There was . . . at the school. Akoni?"

"He's fine; probably has a headache like you, but everyone is fine. None of the students were injured," Danny assured her.

"Steve? There were . . . on the boat. They were shooting. Wait, Chin and Kono . . . " she struggled to sit up.

"Hey, whoa," Danny said, his hands gently pressing her back onto the gurney, "they're fine. Everyone is okay, Jax."

"You're bleeding," she pointed out. "Were you hit?" She brushed her hand over her eyebrow. "Was I hit?"

"I tore some stitches," Danny said, frowning in concern as he glanced at the paramedic.

"She's disoriented, which is typical of a concussion. Commander McGarrett said this was the second suspected concussion in a relatively short period of time?" the paramedic asked.

"Right here," Jax said testily. "Yes, had a concussion a few weeks ago. I remember that just fine, thank you."

"Okay, stand down," Danny said. "We'll get to Malia, get you sorted out, yeah?"

Jax nodded and then closed her eyes against a wave of nausea. That was better. Dark was better. She was vaguely aware of Danny saying something . . . but it was just so much easier to stay in the dark . . .

()()()()()()()()

"Thanks, Rachel, I think that would be perfect," Steve said, "we'll see you and Gracie late morning, then." He smiled in satisfaction as he hung up the phone. Not only had he saved Danny dealing with the phone call, he'd agreed with Rachel that she would bring Gracie to his house in the morning so that she could still have her time with her Danno. Steve had no intention of letting either Danny or Jax out of his sight until at least Monday.

 _Mother hen. Worse than Danny_ , his brain snarked at him.

When he arrived at the ER, the receptionist nodded and directed him to Trauma 2. Knocking quietly on the door, he heard Malia answer.

"Come on in, Steve," she said, looking up over a row of careful, neat stitches in Danny's arm. "Jax reminded me that she demanded a plastic surgeon in New York; I can't let her down."

"You okay, partner?" Steve asked. Danny looked exceptionally distressed for someone getting stitches. "Wait, where's Jax?"

"She's getting a CT scan," Danny answered, wincing as Malia tied off the last stitch. "Malia turned her over to a neurosurgeon."

"A neuro- how bad, Malia?" Steve demanded, alarmed.

"It's a precaution, Steve. It's obvious that she suffered both a blow to the back of her head and to the side of her head when she hit the floor. At least two blunt force traumas. Following closely from the blunt force to the back of the head in New York; thankfully, not in the exact location but still . . . close. The loss of consciousness is of concern. We need to rule out skull fractures and bleeds," Malia explained.

She took a closer look at Steve and noticed the gash on his arm. "Steven McGarrett, are you bleeding?!"

Steve looked at his arm again. "Oh. Yeah. Ricochet, I think."

Malia sighed and shook her head, and grabbed another suture pack. She pulled away the gauze that he had haphazardly slapped on the wound and tsk'd her disapproval. "Oh dear; this isn't going to suture well. So, the good news for you, is no stitches. The bad news is, this will definitely scar." She carefully cleaned and dressed the wound. "That will have to suffice. Change the dressing when it gets wet; you know the drill."

She tossed the trash into the biohazard can and washed her hands. "Jax should be about finished in CT; I'll go down and check on her, and bring her back up. You boys behave, please?"

As the door closed behind Malia, Steve turned his attention to Danny. "Rachel says hello, good job, and glad you're safe. She picked Gracie up from school; she'll let her know that we had a case today and that everyone is fine but we just need a little rest tonight. She's going to bring her by my house tomorrow morning."

"Your house?" Danny said, raising his eyebrows at Steve.

"Partner, we didn't let you go home alone last night; if you think I'm dropping you off at that crap apartment alone tonight you're crazy." When Danny started to protest, Steve added, "I think Jax will want you close tonight, Danno."

Danny narrowed his eyes at Steve. That was low . . . but effective. He was silent for a moment.

"It shouldn't have happened, Steve," he said quietly. "She shouldn't have been sent in there today. It was too soon."

Steve had expected Danny to rant, and yell, and be . . . Danny. He wasn't prepared for this quiet, serious, reflective Danny.

Danny had been prepared to lecture Steve . . . he actually had a great speech all saved up, starting with words like _impulsive_ and _hero-complex_ and ending with _caution_ and _procedure_. But when he saw Steve's hands start to shake . . . slightly, to be sure, but shake nonetheless . . . he decided not to kick the man while he was down.

Danny's musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Steve jumped up, hopeful that it was Malia with Jax.

"Hey, Grover," he said in surprise. "Didn't expect to see you here. Everything okay?"

"No, Commander, everything is not okay. One of my people is in the hospital. Where is she, by the way?" Grover said, wondering if Steve actually remembered that Jax was SWAT and not Five-O.

"CT scan," Steve said tersely, crossing his arms and wincing as he jostled the fresh wound.

"You two okay?" Grover asked, nodding at their new bandages.

"We're fine," Danny answered for both of them.

"What can I do to help, while we wait?" Grover asked, in an effort to distract Steve a bit. The man looked like he was about to implode. Come to think of it, Danny looked almost distraught. "Wait," he added, "the CT is just routine, right? Danny? How bad?"

Danny looked down at his hands. Malia had cleaned his torn stitches but not his hands . . . they were still streaked with Jax's blood. He knew it was a small cut, really, just at a location that bled easily, but still. It was disconcerting.

"She passed out right before you loaded her in the bus," Danny said, nodding to Steve. "On the ride over . . . she was in a lot of pain, disoriented, but asking about all of us, so thank God she at least knew when and where she was. But she lost consciousness again before we got here."

"And when you got here? Did she still know what was going on?" Grover asked, his face lined with worry.

Danny hesitated. On the one hand, he hated to do this - hated to remind these guys that so clearly cared about Jax that they had, indeed, put her in harm's way and that it had ended badly. There was a very small part of him, though, the part that had trained Jax from her first days in the academy and the part that claimed her as _one of his_ , damn it, that wanted to punish them. Just a little bit. He looked at Steve and saw the guilt and anguish in his eyes, and realized that there was already plenty of that going around.

He stood up and went to wash his hands. "She didn't regain consciousness. So I don't know," he said quietly, facing the sink because he didn't want to risk the expression on his face telling Steve and Grover that yes, it was a little bit their fault.

Danny sighed, realizing he may as well hand out all the bad news at once. He indicated the foot of the gurney that had rolled in from the ambulance with Jax. Her boots were placed neatly on the floor underneath, but her cargo pants, bloodied HPD t-shirt, and Kevlar vest were in an evidence bag on top.

"You'll want to take that for processing, Grover," Danny said. "Malia noticed that her knuckles were split. Some of the blood on that t-shirt might be Miranda's." He paused, took a breath. "And you'll want ballistics to pull the slug out of her vest."

"The - hell, Danny," Steve said, grabbing for the bag. He turned it over in his hands until he could see the vest. There was a bullet lodged low and to the left. He swallowed against a sudden wave of nausea. Another couple of inches . . .

Grover gently took the bag out of his hands. "Thank you, Williams, we'll take care of it. Did you secure her gun and badge?"

"Steve secured her sidearms on scene. Her badge is with mine. They'll go home with her . . ." Danny hesitated again. With any luck she'd be going home today, but Steve and Grover hadn't seen her, unconscious, pale, blood streaming down the side of her face. "When she goes home."

"I need -" Steve broke off. "I'll be back." Danny and Grover watched as he wrenched the door open and bolted from the room. Grover started to go after him.

"I wouldn't," Danny said quietly. "Let me, in a few minutes. He's gonna need some space."

"Williams, I'm truly sorry for the way this went down," Grover said. "Despite what you might think, I didn't send her in thoughtlessly. If there had been another option . . . "

"I know," Danny said wearily, rubbing his hand over his face. "I was there, she wanted to do her job. It's just . . . I don't want to tell you how to run your department, Captain, but you should know -" he hesitated.

"No, go ahead, Williams. You've worked with her before. I should have talked to you before now. Tell me what's on your mind."

"She has about the same sense of self-preservation as Steve. She will be the first to offer to go in, and the last to tell you when she's injured," Danny explained.

"That's what makes her SWAT and not a beat cop, or a detective," Grover said.

"Yes, that's true," Danny agreed. "But add to that the fact that she is consistently up against the assumption that because she's female, and still young, and . . . well, frankly, probably has to pick up her cargo pants in the boy's department . . . the entire time she's been on the force she's had to go above and beyond to prove herself. So, between very little sense of self-preservation - God only knows why, but she doesn't seem to value her life - and this constant drive to prove herself . . . "

"She doesn't make choices in the interest of personal safety," Grover finished.

"Not even close," Danny said. "I'm hoping this . . . thing, whatever it is, with Steve, might change that. Give her a reason to want to take better care of herself."

"Unless she's trying to prove something to him, too," Grover said, shaking his head.

()()()()()()()()

Steve leaned against the wall in the hallway, clenching his hands to stop the shaking, swallowing hard against the bile rising in his throat, and closing his eyes to try to regain his composure.

"Steve?" Jax's voice broke through his panic. "Is Danny - what's wrong? Is it his lung?"

He opened his eyes to see her sitting smack in front of him. Pale, a makeshift bandage still over her eye, the side of her face from jaw to cheekbone swollen and starting to bruise. She lifted her hand, knuckles split and bloodied, to brush her blood-matted curls away from her face.

He stared at her, unspeaking, for a long moment, trying to get his voice to cooperate.

"Danny's fine," he finally croaked out, as Malia smiled up at him in sympathy. "He and Grover are in there." He waved vaguely toward the door.

"Are you okay?" Jax said, peering up at him in alarm. "You look shocky. Malia, is he shocky?" she asked, turning to look up at Malia and wincing at an unfamiliar pain in her ribs.

"I think Steve just needs a moment," Malia said gently. "Let's go deal with that cut over your eye, and fix up your hand, okay?"

Steve nodded gratefully at Malia as she winked and pushed Jax into the room. He leaned back against the wall next to the open door, and let the sound of conversation soothe his frazzled nerves.

"Hey, babe," Danny said. "Good to see you awake, kid."

"Danny, are you okay? Steve is pretty freaked out," Jax said.

Danny chuckled. "Steve is dealing with a growing awareness of several previously neglected concepts. He'll be fine." He stepped out of the way as Malia began to gather yet another suture pack and more bandage supplies.

"Good job today, Officer Nolan," Grover said. "I am truly, truly sorry that you were injured; but I'm proud of the work you did. You exhibited grace under pressure. Now, I do not want to hear a peep out of you, other than to have someone notify me on Monday of the details of your medical leave. No - no argument."

"But -" Jax started to protest.

"Officer Nolan, do not make me have to deal with insubordination. Not on top of all of the paperwork that I'm going to be doing all weekend. Kalakaua playing target practice; you, McGarrett, and Kelley turning two idiots into swiss cheese; Williams here took one down by clotheslining him . . . these people are unbalanced. But they saved the life of one of my officers, and it's not the first time, so I'll do the damn paperwork. I'm gonna be busy doing that, I don't have time to argue with you. You do what you're told. Williams, see to it."

"Sure thing, Captain Grover," Danny said, shaking his hand.

Steve re-entered the room just as Grover patted Jax's head gently and fondly, brushing a finger over her split knuckles and shaking his head. "Do as you're told," he said again, smiling down at her.

He shook Steve's hand on the way out the door. "Good work today, McGarrett."

Malia had everything ready on a surgical tray next to the available hospital bed. "Danny, could I speak with you for a moment?" she asked, inclining her head toward the hallway. "And Steve, rather than call an orderly, can I count on you to get Jax from the wheelchair to the bed? I still need to stitch her up."

Danny tossed a concerned glance at Steve over Jax's head, and turned to follow Malia into the hallway.

Jax stubbornly tried to stand up and was quickly thwarted.

"Nope," Steve said, quickly and easily scooping her up out of the wheelchair.

"You'll hurt your arm," Jax protested. "What happened, anyway? Did you get hit?"

"It's fine," he answered, still holding her.

She rested her head against his shoulder. _Whatever,_ her brain offered, _you have a concussion. You're allowed._

"So, we got the guy," she said, mumbling tiredly into his collarbone. "And all our people are okay, right? Danny just tore the stitches and you just have a flesh wound? Chin and Kono are good? HPD is good?"

"Umm hmm," he affirmed, still not making any progress toward putting her down.

"And all the students and teachers are okay?" she asked.

"Yep," he said, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head.

"You gonna put me down any time soon?" she asked, still not bothering to lift her head off his shoulder. Her head _hurt_ , damn it, and she really didn't want to move it more than she had to.

Steve squeezed her just a bit tighter, and then reluctantly placed her on the hospital bed. She hissed in pain as her ribs were jostled. Steve pressed over her ribcage where the vest had caught the bullet, and she winced again.

"Did you even know you got hit?" he asked quietly, his long, strong fingers gently ghosting over the bruising on her face.

"Not at the time," she admitted. "Right before the CT, it started hurting. Made it hard to be still."

"I bet," he said, brushing his thumb gently over her split lip. "You scared the shit out of us. Danny said you passed out in the bus, didn't regain consciousness."

"Sorry," she mumbled. "It wasn't so much that I was unconscious, really . . . "

"You hurt too much to deliberately stay conscious?" he guessed.

She nodded slightly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Maybe . . ." Steve hesitated. "Maybe Grover and I needed to be scared, just a little. Danny tried to get us to send for someone else today. We should have listened."

"We've had this discussion," Jax said, looking intently into Steve's eyes. "You have to let me do my job. I'm serious."

"I know," he said, nodding, "and I understand, and we will. I promise. But you've got to accept that you're human. Understand that there are limits. You're going to play this out under doctor's orders."

Jax sighed. She hurt too badly to argue; she knew she'd pushed it way too far this time.

"Okay," she agreed. "But the new stuff doesn't count. I'm serious. If Danny keeps making you promise . . . I keep getting the crap beat out of me, so the new bruises and shit totally don't count."

"Don't count for - oh, for heaven's sake," Danny complained, coming in to the tail end of the conversation. "For crying out - she's concussed, Steven. In a hospital bed. Bleeding."

"Hey, don't look at me, partner," Steve said, smirking at Jax. "She brought it up."

"Babe," Danny said, shaking his head at her. "Seriously."

Jax shrugged. "Learn to knock, Danno. It's just going to get more embarrassing for you from here."

Danny threw up his hands. "Malia, good luck," he said. "I'm going to get coffee."

Jax perked up. "Coffee?" she said hopefully.

"If you think you can keep it down," Malia said, nodding her approval to Danny. Jax grinned as he headed out the door, mumbling something to himself about Steve having ruined coffee for him forever.

"Okay, let's see what we have here," Malia said, pulling back the gauze that had been taped over Jax's eye. The cut started bleeding freely as soon as the bandage was removed.

"Dermabond and steri-strips?" Jax suggested.

"I'm afraid not in this case," Malia sighed, "it's bleeding too much. The Dermabond would be diluted too quickly to work. No, this is going to need stitches; just two or three, but it's the only way to close it. Steve, can you hold - thank you, perfect." Malia went to scrub up while Steve held pressure on the cut.

"How'd this happen?" he asked, holding the bandage with one hand and tucking her curls behind her ear with the other.

"Car door," she said. "I tried to make a break for it at the back of the school. I got in one really good hit," she held up her bloodied knuckles as evidence, "but he slammed my head into the door."

"Are you nuts?" Steve asked, alarmed. "If you had broken away he would have probably shot you."

Jax narrowed her eyes at him. "I figure if I had broken away, Kono would have had a clean shot. Tell me I'm wrong."

Steve stared at her in amazement. "How'd you - "

"You forget, Danny and I keep in touch. I've had months of stories. Also, I just entered an entire month of your cases into the HPD database. I know how you operate," she explained.

Malia returned with fresh gloves and rolled up her stool close to the head of Jax's bed. She picked up a syringe, but Jax stopped her.

"Don't bother with numbing it, Malia," she said wearily. "Just stitch it up."

"Are you sure?" Malia asked.

"It's going to take what, two or three shots at least, right? Why bother for two or three stitches?" Jax asserted.

Malia hesitated and looked at Steve. He shrugged; he'd often made the same call. The shots hurt almost as much as the stitches, and made his face feel itchy and weird. He sat down in a chair opposite Malia, and took Jax's less injured hand firmly in his own.

"So, did Danny ever tell you about the time that Kono and I had to chase down this guy, who was wearing nothing - I kid you not - but a grass skirt?" Steve began, as Malia slid the needle in for the first stitch.

By the time Danny returned with a tray of steaming coffees, Malia was tying off the last stitch. Steve thumbed away a tear that had escaped despite Jax's best efforts, and kissed her cheek tenderly.

"Your rookie is such a bad-ass, Danny," he said, gratefully accepting the offered coffee. "Three stitches, no novacaine."

"I didn't teach her that nonsense," Danny protested. "She must have picked up those bad habits in SWAT."

"Thank you, Danny," Malia said, sipping her coffee. Putting in stitches without having numbed the patient had been nerve-wracking.

"Give it," Jax said impatiently, holding out her good hand to Danny. She inhaled the aroma appreciatively.

"Take it slow," Malia warned, "and let me look at that hand." She turned Jax's split knuckles over to examine them. "Now, here we can use Dermabond," she said, relieved. Just as she finished dressing and closing the cuts, her pager went off.

"Results from the CT scan," she said. "I'll be right back."

As Malia left the room, Danny placed his coffee on the counter, pulled a washcloth from the cabinet, and soaked it in warm water at the sink. He sat down on the stool and rolled to the head of Jax's bed.

"Jacqueline," he said, as he began to gently wash the dried blood off her face, "at some point, we are going to have a serious talk about you throwing yourself willy-nilly into the hands of hardened criminals."

"Okay, Danny," she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head into Danny's touch. Steve smiled. It was sweet, really, how quickly and easily Danny slipped into the role of big brother. Jax usually responded with snark, but then there were moments like this when she clearly welcomed a bit of bossing around. It made Steve think fondly of Mary; she loved to argue with him, bait him, even, but she knew she could count on him to have her back when she needed him.

"I'm serious, babe," Danny continued, turning the cloth over to find a clean spot, and dabbing at her lip. "You scared the shit out of me."

Malia returned to the room and flipped on the light box. "Good news," she said, as she hung a strip of CT images on the box. "No fractures, no bleeds."

Steve and Danny looked at each other in relief.

"I'm not done," Malia said sternly. "This is the second severe concussion in a row. There could be micro bleeds that we can't see. The two of you," she said firmly, gesturing to Steve and Danny, "are going to have to watch closely. You know the symptoms to look for. Any sign - and I mean any sign - of increased pain, confusion, and certainly loss of consciousness, and she needs to be to the closest ER immediately. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Steve and Danny replied, meekly. She might be a little wisp of a thing, but Malia in protective doctor mode was a force to be reckoned with.

Jax smirked, until Malia turned on her. "And you, Officer Nolan. One week complete medical leave. No arguments, I am calling Captain Grover myself. No desk duty. No riding in the medic bus. Furthermore, no computer work, no typing, no filing. It's absolutely imperative that you give your brain time to rest. TV is fine if you sit at a distance and stop if you start to feel worse. Reading, maybe, for about ten or fifteen minutes at a time until you start to feel significantly better. Got it?"

Jax nodded reluctantly. "What on earth can I do? For a week?"

"You can sleep; you can relax by the water if the sun isn't too bright; you can rehydrate and for goodness' sake, try to gain a few pounds. You can keep your physical therapy appointments - but under no circumstances are you to drive," Malia said.

"That's an understatement," muttered Danny. Steve looked at him curiously. He was going to have to ask about that later.

"Can I cook?" Jax asked hopefully.

Malia pondered for a moment. "Yes, actually, that would be excellent. No close eye strain, and a pleasant enough distraction. Just be mindful that your dominant hand is still injured and please don't cut yourself." Malia looked sternly at the three of them again, making them feel like they had been called to the principal's office. "I could make an excellent, excellent case for at least overnight observation." She held up her hand at Jax's immediate protest. "I'm not, but only with the understanding that my instructions are going to be followed. And I know where you live, Steven McGarrett, and I reserve the right to come check on my patient."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said.

"Okay," Malia continued. "Last item on the agenda - pain management. Jax, tell me honestly, what is your pain level right now?"

Jax hesitated. Malia looked at her over the tops of her reading glasses. "Bear in mind, I have a detailed report of a full examination of all of your injuries; from the two - no, three - blows to your head, to the bruised ribs - again - from the impact to your vest. And the various and sundry defensive and offensive wounds we just closed."

"Eight?" Jax suggested tentatively. Danny glanced at her in alarm. It was unusual for her to admit being in that much pain.

"Why didn't you say something, babe?" he asked.

"Given that your blood pressure is high and you're on the edge of showing symptoms of shock, I'd say eight is a low estimate," Malia inserted. "We're going to follow the pain management protocol set up for you in New York, okay? Last thing we need to is add the insult of nightmares. Do you need refills or are you all set?"

"I have plenty," Jax said glumly. "I won't do anything but sleep," she complained.

"Perfect," Malia nodded. "Steve, I take it I'm sending them both home with you? Can you manage with that arm?"

He nodded. "No problem, Malia."

"Okay, Danny, change the dressings on your stitches every time you shower or get them wet," Malia added. "Steve, please try not to let that arm get infected, okay?" She shook her head in dismay at the three of them.

"I don't suppose anyone brought extra clothes for Jax?" she said. "Fine, I'll add another set of scrubs to Five-O's tab."

"Hey, she's SWAT," Steve protested. "Send the bill to Grover this time."

()()()()()()()()

By the time they arrived back at Steve's house, the sun had set. Jax trooped wearily to the shower while Steve and Danny stowed their sidearms and badges.

Steve waited until he heard the water running. "Mind if I ask what Malia wanted to discuss today?" he asked quietly.

Danny sighed. "I'm listed as Jax's next of kin. Her brother was, when he was living. Malia wanted to know if we should call her parents, that sort of thing."

"Oh," Steve said. "Should we have?"

"No," Danny answered, shaking his head. "They didn't come when she almost died on 9/11. She'd hardly want them called for a concussion. So, apparently the buck stops with me, when it comes to medical decisions on her behalf. I hate it. Next of kin for someone who regularly throws themselves into the line of fire? For someone as careless and reckless as . . . well, as you. Can you imagine?

Steve looked at Danny oddly.

"No," Danny said, incredulously. "You did not."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I meant to tell you. Ask you. Discuss it with you."

"Wow," Danny said. "I mean, I'm honored, buddy, but why me?"

"I trust you, Danny," Steve said simply. "And Jax obviously does, too. You're a good guy."

Danny rubbed his eyes wearily. "Wow," he said again. "Okay then."

Steve grinned. It was a rare day that Danny Williams was speechless. "It's okay, Danno. You don't have to take anyone off life support tonight or anything. I'm gonna grab a shower. Be right back."

Danny was still standing in the living room muttering and questioning his life choices when Jax padded in, wearing her customary gym shorts and another of Steve's worn, faded, t-shirts. She gingerly and wearily curled into a corner of the sofa.

"Hey, babe," Danny said, grabbing the soft throw that he knew she liked and tucking it around her. "The less-covered-in-blood is a much better look for you, gotta say."

"Thanks, Danny," she said, looking up at him. There were multiples of him, again. She closed her eyes.

"Jax?" He prodded her shoulder gently. "You okay?"

She thought about it a moment. "'M floaty," she decided.

"Floaty? Oh, so the drugs are kicking in," he guessed. "How's the pain?"

She pondered that one question for a moment. It was a tough question. "Which one?"

Danny chuckled. "Any or all of them."

"It's . . . wait, what?" she looked at him in confusion.

"What's the question?" Steve asked as he came down the stairs.

"The question was how is the pain, and I think the answer is that she's starting to feel none," said Danny. "I'm going to get a shower, have fun with this," he said as he walked down the hall.

"Did you eat anything?" Steve asked, brushing his fingers through Jax's damp curls.

"Um, no," she remembered. "I'm not hungry. Also, it will hurt," she said, pointing a clumsy finger at her split lip.

"Stay put, I'll make you a smoothie," he said.

When he returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, Jax was studying the pattern on the throw.

"I should learn to knit," she declared, as Steve handed her the cup. He was glad he'd opted for plastic.

"Maybe when your concussion is better," he suggested, sliding onto the sofa next to her and steadying her hand as she sipped the smoothie.

"It's a new concussion," she observed, in completely serious sincerity.

"Yes," Steve agreed, amused. He'd never seen her awake and under the influence of the drugs. They usually knocked her completely out.

"Doesn't count," she muttered, as she finished the last of the drink.

"You've mentioned," Steve murmured, gently rubbing the noticeable lump on the back of her head. "I don't think we need to remind Danny right now, though, okay?"

Jax nodded seriously. "It makes him twitchy," she agreed. She closed her eyes and rested her head against Steve's shoulder for a moment. He thought she'd fallen asleep, but she sat bolt upright and looked at him seriously again. "Danny needs to start seeing someone," she announced.

He smirked. Danny was right; this was fun. Except for the part where she was swollen, bruised, stitched, and concussed. Still. "You think?" he asked.

"He's a good guy. I mean, even with the whole, you know, distance. Which has been annoying and . . . and stupid. But it's because he's a good guy, really," she said earnestly. "And he's a great dad. And very sweet. He should start seeing someone." She pointed a finger at Steve, as if she was holding him responsible for the situation.

"Ohhhkay?" he said, uncertainly.

She studied him for a moment. "You have a sister," she announced.

"I do," he nodded.

"Okay," she said, nodding in satisfaction.

Danny came back into the living room. "How's it going?" he asked, looking fondly at Jax snuggled up against Steve on the sofa.

"Well, she's either explaining to me her relationship with you, or suggesting that you and Mary should start dating," Steve said. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Yes, that," Jax said, nodding in agreement.

"Which one?" Danny asked, somewhat alarmed. He'd met Steve's sister.

"Yes," Jax said firmly.

"Is this an example of the confusion for which we're supposed to take her to the closest ER?" Danny asked Steve.

"I'm reasonably sure this is a result of the pain meds," Steve said. "But maybe text Malia just to be sure?"

"Yeah," Danny said, eyeing Jax skeptically and pulling out his phone.

_Jax seems . . . a bit disoriented. Rambling about me and Steve's sister. She's taken her pain meds. Should be be worried?_

_Is she oriented to time and place if you ask her? Does she remember today's events?_

"Jax? Do you know where you are right now?" Danny asked.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Steve's house," she said.

"Good, babe, do you remember what happened today?" he added.

"Steve was in tac gear, and he kicked the door in, pulled out a gnarly awesome knife and cut the zip ties, and we kicked ass. Then there was, you know," she waved her hand dismissively, "the hospital and stuff."

Danny looked at her in amazement. "The tac gear and the kicking in of the door. That's the part you choose to relay to me?"

"Thigh holster," Jax said seriously. She squinted at Danny in confusion. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, babe, and I'm disturbed beyond the telling of it," Danny said, while Steve rubbed his hand over his face in amusement.

Danny turned his attention back to his phone.

_She is disturbingly oriented to time, place, and the day's events. Fixated on the fact that Steve was in tac gear._

_She's fine. That's definitely the drugs. She will be remarkably forthcoming._

_No kidding. Thanks Malia._

"Okay, Malia says this is normal and it's the drugs talking," Danny said.

"Pretty sure it's me talking," Jax said, shaking her head in dismay. "Please make me stop," she said plaintively.

Steve chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, ku'uipo. Why don't you go get ready for bed?"

"Because stupid Danny made a rule - OH, that's not what you meant," she said.

"Um, no, that's not what I meant," Steve said, brushing her curls away from her face.

"Not yet," she whispered.

Danny cleared his throat loudly. Jax jumped. She'd forgotten he was standing there. She stood up, swaying a bit to get her balance, then headed off down the hall toward the bathroom.

"'Night, boys," she called back over her shoulder.

"That was . . . interesting," Danny said. He narrowed his eyes at Steve and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You are enjoying this entirely too much," he added.

"Holy shit," Jax exclaimed from the bathroom.

"You okay, babe?" Danny called down the hall.

"I look like I got the crap beat out of me," she yelled.

"You did, you big goof," Danny yelled back. Steve looked at him in amazement. It really was like watching an old family movie of himself and Mary. He shook his head, stood up, and headed toward the bathroom.

"Well, I can't go to work looking like this," she said, poking her head out of the bathroom door. "Oh, hey," she said, surprised to find Steve standing outside the door. "I look like shit," she announced. "And I feel weird and I'm saying everything that pops into my head. What the hell?" she asked.

"You took a couple hits today, got a concussion, and you've taken your pain meds they gave you in New York," Steve explained patiently. "Normally it puts you straight to sleep, but for some reason tonight it hasn't, and it's making you a little loopy. It's okay. In fact, it's pretty cute."

"Oh, dear Lord," Jax groaned, "I'm going to sleep before I humiliate myself."

Steve cupped her face gently in his hands and kissed her bruised cheek gently. "Goodnight, ku'uipo; you call for me or Danny if you need anything, okay?"

She nodded, then turned and shuffled to her bed and collapsed on top of it. Steve shook his head and carefully rearranged the blanket over her before heading back down the hall.

"I think she's out," he said, as he sat down on the sofa next to Danny. "I wonder how much of that she'll remember in the morning?"

Danny grinned. "I have video, just in case."


	18. Chapter 18

**Saturday**

By the time Rachel arrived the next morning, Steve had come back in from his customary swim, emptied the dishwasher, and started a fresh pot of coffee. She knocked quietly at the door, assuming correctly that the injured parties inside might still be resting.

Steve opened the door and was rewarded with an armful of Gracie, who launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight.

"Thanks, Rachel," Steve said sincerely, kissing her on the cheek. "Would you like to come in for coffee?"

"Thank you, Steven," she said, following him into the kitchen. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Are you kidding?" Steve said. "I've got my best girl here to help me take care of her daddy and my new friend. We'll have them patched up in no time."

Gracie beamed. "I brought new coloring books and the nature DVDs that Danno likes to watch when he needs to sleep," she said.

"Perfect," Steve smiled down at her. "You want to go check on Danno? He's super tired so he might not wake up. He's in the room you usually sleep in, Mary's room."

Gracie tiptoed down the hall.

"And Jacqueline? Which room is she in?" Rachel teased gently. She liked Steve, she really did. Despite Danny's bluster that Steve almost got him killed on a regular basis, she could tell that Steve genuinely cared for his team and would stop at nothing to protect them. She knew the circumstances that had brought Steve back to the island and into Danny's life, and thought it was high time that something good happened for him.

"Jax is in the guest room," Steve said, handing Rachel a cup of coffee. "Danny has rules, and a timeline, and suggestions."

Rachel laughed. "I'm sure he does. He's quite protective of her."

"Rachel, the whole history with Danny and Jax, there's really and truly nothing -"

She held up her hand to interrupt him. "Steven, it's not an issue. Ten years ago I was insecure, and hormonal, and while I was rapidly losing sight of my own feet, Jacqueline was vaulting over walls and climbing up elevator shafts. But Danny . . . well, Danny was Danny, you know? Faithful to a fault. I'm happy she's here; it sounds like things were not good for her in New York."

"She brought him back to us, you know," Steve said. "We almost . . . she brought him back."

"I know," Rachel said, "and for that Gracie and I will be eternally grateful. How badly is he injured, really?"

"It's not bad, now," Steve said. "Gave Jax a good scare in the hospital, when his lung collapsed, but he's doing okay, really. Tore some stitches yesterday, and he's completely jet lagged, but he's okay."

"And Jacqueline?"

"Less okay," he answered honestly.

"You'll take good care of them both, I know," Rachel said, finishing her coffee and smiling at Gracie as she came back into the kitchen.

"How's Danno?" Steve asked her. "Snoring away?"

Gracie giggled. "No, but he was talking funny in his sleep. Something about an idiot and a Ne . . . Neander-something, and coffee ruined forever. And then he said something about Jax and blood and he started to look really upset, but I patted his shoulder and he went back to sleep."

"That's a good girl, Gracie," Steve said, gently pulling her pigtail. "I think your Danno was having a bad dream."

She nodded, her brown eyes wide and serious. "That happens sometimes. But it's okay. I have bad dreams too. Danno says everyone does, even you, Uncle Steve."

"That's right, sweetie, everyone does," Rachel said gently. "So you help your Uncle Steve chase away your daddy's bad dreams, okay?"

"Okay, mommy," Gracie said agreeably, as they walked to the front door to see Rachel out.

Steve waved to Rachel as she pulled out of the drive, then looked down at Gracie.

"Think your dad would wake up if he smelled pancakes?" he asked.

Gracie grinned. "Let's find out," she said, heading into the kitchen.

"Okay, you get the stuff out, I'll be right there," Steve said, taking a detour down the hall.

He stood in the doorway of Jax's room, which had been left open so that he could do concussion checks and hear her if she became distressed. Thankfully, she'd not been plagued with nightmares, and she'd responded correctly, if grumpily, to his periodic questions throughout the night to determine if she was oriented to time and place.

"Jax?" he called softly from the hall. This time, she opened her good eye and peered out at him. A sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he'd startled her, but she smiled when her eyes focused on him.

"Hey," she said, wincing as she tried to move. "I'm at your house, Danny is here, everyone is okay, just a little beat up. I'd recite my badge number for you but I haven't memorized it yet. Want my NYPD number?"

"Nope," Steve said, smiling at her. "I want NYPD to be a distant memory. Gracie is here, and we're making pancakes. Think you can manage to eat?"

She started to nod, then winced and stopped. "Yeah. Let me get cleaned up as much as I can. I don't want to freak Gracie out."

When Steve returned to the kitchen, Gracie had the ingredients organized in a neat row. She really was a remarkable kid, Steve thought, not for the first time.

"Okay, kiddo, let's send some wake-up-pancake vibes down to the end of the hall," he said, washing his hands. "Hey, do you remember the officer that used to work with your dad, back before you were born? She got a fancy NYPD job but your daddy always looked out for her?"

"Aunt Jax?" Gracie asked.

Steve grinned, a sudden thought occurring to him. "Is that what you called her when you were little?"

"Yeah, I couldn't say her name. Sorta like Danno. I don't think she minds," Gracie said, a little uncertainly.

"I'm very sure she doesn't," Steve assured her. "Did your mom tell you she was staying here?"

Gracie nodded. "Mommy said that she was very brave and kept Daddy from getting hurt worse in New York. And that some bad people had hurt her and that she needed to rest now."

"That's right," Steve said, helping Gracie crack an egg into the batter. "When she got hurt yesterday, she fell and bruised her face up pretty bad. She's worried that it will upset you."

Gracie shook her head. "Aunt Jax gets bruised up a lot, Uncle Steve. Daddy worries about her."

"Yeah, I think we need to get her to be more careful," Steve agreed.

"Mommy says that people who don't feel loved or needed are careless with their lives," Gracie said solemnly. "And that's why it's so important for me to make sure Danno knows I love him," she added.

Steve swallowed hard. Gracie looked up at him, studying him.

"Uncle Steve?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

She caught him off guard when she threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could.

"We love you a lot, Uncle Steve," she said. He scooped her up, holding her tight.

"I love you guys, too, Gracie," he said quietly.

Jax blinked back a completely unexpected rush of tears as she padded quietly into the kitchen and observed the scene in front of her.

 _Maybe someday a kid would be a good thing to have,_ her brain suggested. Had to be the concussion. Or the drugs. Or both. Then Steve smiled at her over Gracie's head, and her heart did this weird skippy thing. So maybe not.

"Look who's awake," Steve whispered to Gracie. She turned in his arms and lit up at the sight of Jax.

"Aunt Jax," she said, wiggling out of Steve's arms. She bounded across the kitchen and then stopped short in front of Jax, reaching out and hugging her very gently. "Mommy said your ribs were all cracked up, so to be careful," she explained.

Jax wrapped her arms around Gracie and hugged her back as tightly as she dared. "Your mommy is right, but I wouldn't miss your hugs for anything, Gracie-girl. You've grown so much. I'm sorry I missed your birthday party this year."

"It's okay," Gracie said easily. "You couldn't come all the way from New York." She studied Jax's face for a moment. "Aunt Jax, you're hurt really bad this time."

Jax reached out and smoothed Gracie's pigtail between her fingers. "I'm okay, punkin. I heard there were going to be pancakes."

"Yes, we are going to make pancakes and see if the smell wakes up Danno," Gracie said, returning to the counter.

Steve had poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Jax, once again letting his fingers brush hers. He traced the back of one finger over her knuckles, which were now criss-crossed with cuts in various stages of healing. He curved one hand around her hip, gently caressing the scar he could feel through his old t-shirt, while his other hand cupped her face, his thumb softly stroking her bruised cheek and jaw.

"You are hurt really bad this time, Jax," he said quietly, his voice filled with regret.

She shook her head. "This is nothing," she said, "compared to . . . " She stopped short. She was slipping; she hadn't meant for that to get outside her own head. She took a sip of her coffee, forcing it past the lump in her throat, and looking into her mug so that she didn't have to look at Steve. She fidgeted with it on the counter.

"Ku'uipo," Steve whispered, wrapping his arms carefully around her. She tensed for a split second and then relaxed against him, as he cradled her head against his chest. His fingers brushed through her hair and he breathed in the scent of honeysuckle and gunpowder, as her arms circled around his waist.

"What can I do?" he murmured quietly in her ear. "What can I do to make it better?"

She pulled her head back slightly and looked up, losing herself for a minute in his eyes. "This," she said. "This makes it better."

"Then I'll do this," he said, his hand tenderly rubbing the back of her head.

She smiled, and her face lit up until - "Ow," she said, wincing in pain as the cut on her lip opened slightly.

Steve kissed the top of her head, and turned her loose so that he could grab a paper towel. He wet it at the kitchen sink and gently pressed it against her lip.

"Uncle Steve? I think the pancakes need to be turned. Can you help me?" Grace asked.

"Absolutely," he said, going to her side and guiding her hand as she flipped the pancakes.

Jax felt Danny's arm slip around her as he came quietly into the kitchen. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and they watched Steve and Grace manage the pancakes.

"I'm really, really glad you're here, kid," Danny whispered in her ear. "I've missed this. I've missed Gracie having her Aunt Jax."

Jax nodded. Even after she'd taken the job at NYPD, there'd been weekend bbqs, and Gracie's birthday parties, and her dance recitals. Rachel had not seemed to begrudge her time with their family, although she'd always kept that British cool going. Danny had shown up every time - every damn time - that she'd managed to get herself shot, or stabbed, or dropped off a bridge. But for the past year . . . and after O'Neil . . .

"Hey, babe, what's wrong?" Danny asked in quiet alarm.

She looked at him in confusion, completely unaware that tears were coursing down her cheeks until he reached up and gently brushed them away. She shook her head, feeling foolish and amused at herself, except . . . _well, shit_ , her brain complained, _why won't it stop? enough. make it stop. STOP._

She attempted to pull away from Danny so that she could disappear and pull herself together. But he was having none of it.

"No," he said, wrapping his arms around her and gently pressing her face into his shoulder. "No, you don't get to run from this, Jax."

"Let me go," Jax whispered brokenly to Danny. "I'll upset Gracie."

Steve had turned away from the stove, and was looking at them, his face lined with worry.

"Hey, Gracie has been taught that it's perfectly healthy and normal to express emotions," Steve heard Danny say to Jax, stroking her hair. "I know your old man took a different approach but I've never made Grace afraid to cry, and I'm damn sure not going to start now by letting you set that example, got me?"

Steve felt Gracie's tiny hand slip into his. She had turned around and was watching Danny and Jax, her brown eyes wide and serious. He felt her tug on his hand, and he squatted down to eye level with her.

"Is Aunt Jax sad?" she whispered. "Or is she hurt?"

"I think she's probably a little of both, sweetie," he answered her honestly.

Gracie nodded solemnly, and then lit up as Danny smiled at her over Jax's head. She waited patiently, holding Steve's hand, while Jax's shoulders shook silently in Danny's arms. After a few minutes, Danny whispered something to Jax, and she nodded, brushing tears impatiently away from her face.

"Hey, Monkey, come give Aunt Jax one of your super special hugs," Danny said, motioning for Gracie to come to him. She bounded across the kitchen and threw her arms around both Danny and Jax.

"I'm sorry you're sad and hurt, Aunt Jax," Gracie said.

"I'm fine, Gracie, really," Jax said, tugging on Gracie's pigtail once again.

"Danno says that it's okay not to be fine sometimes, though," Grace said, looking up at Jax seriously. "And you have stitches and everything," she pointed out.

Danny smiled proudly. "And that, my friends, is how you raise a healthy child. You are completely right, Monkey, people with stitches and everything need to know that it's okay not to be fine. Now, what is this rumor I hear about pancakes?"

"There's some ready for you!" Grace exclaimed, pulling Danny by the hand to the stove. Steve turned to adjust the burner, and when he turned back, he saw Jax slipping out the back door to the lanai. He refilled her coffee mug and followed.

She had curled into one of the chairs and was looking out over the water, tears still threatening to tumble off her long eyelashes. Steve kissed the top of her head and handed her the mug. He pulled a chair closer to her and sat down, taking her free hand in his and rubbing the cuts over her knuckles gently. She sipped the coffee gratefully and closed her eyes, tilting her face back to feel the morning sun.

"Gracie is right," Steve said quietly. "It's okay for you not to be fine. You've been through hell, Jax."

"I think the meds still have me all messed up," she insisted. "I don't know where that came from."

Steve sighed. Danny was really so much better at this, but he'd take a stab at it. "You know one of the reasons I'm really glad you're SWAT?" he asked.

Jax brightened. Talking about work would be so much easier. Safer. "What?"

"Because it means I'm not your boss. I'm not even technically your co-worker. It means you have absolutely nothing to prove to me," he said.

She took another sip of her coffee. Maybe this wasn't going to be as safe as she thought.

"Do you trust me?" Steve asked suddenly.

"What? Of course," she answered quickly.

"Really? Enough to have your back in the field?"

She glanced sideways at him. "Duh."

"Enough to have your back when you have a flashback, or a nightmare, or a bad day?" he pressed.

She was silent for a moment, studying her coffee.

"Why are you okay with strapping on the Kevlar and the nine mil and kicking ass with me, but not okay with me seeing you upset?"

She hesitated.

"Because," she said finally, "you can't possibly . . . you deserve . . . when I'm on the job, when I'm in the field, I'm good. I mean, I'm fine, and I'm also good - good at what I do, good at kicking ass and taking down the bad guys, and patching up the good guys. When I'm not . . . off the job, I'm a bit of a disaster and you deserve . . . you can't possibly want to be saddled with . . ." She impatiently brushed away a tear that had stubbornly insisted on slipping down her cheek. "Shit, Steve, I'm a wreck. No one wants to put up with my shit. I'm . . . damaged."

He rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. What idiot had convinced her of this? Suddenly, inspiration struck.

"Come with me," he said, taking her by the hand and pulling her gently out of her chair. He started walking around the back of the house. "I'm going to show you one of the very few material things that I value highly," he said, leading her to the garage. He rolled open the door.

"Wow," she said, taking in the sight of his dad's Mercury.

"This is my dad's car," Steve said, running his hand lightly over the hood. "I wouldn't give it up for anything. I mean, nothing. No amount of money, no offer of a trade - nothing."

Jax nodded.

"The car doesn't run," Steve added. "The engine is messed up. There's something seriously wrong with the spark plugs, and the suspension is shot. I don't care. I love this car; I love everything about this car. I don't even understand how it works - yet - but I'm figuring it out. I'm going to figure out how it works, I'm going to figure out what's wrong with it, and I'm going to work on it. And I don't care if it never runs, if it never leaves this garage. I love it, because I do, and because it was my dad's, and the fact that it's . . . damaged . . . doesn't change that."

Steve bent and kissed her gently, carefully. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Jax?" he asked quietly, cradling her head in his hands.

"You're willing to put up with my shit?" she whispered, wrapping her arms up around his neck.

Steve laughed. "Yes, exactly. I am willing to put up with your shit," he said. He picked her up and sat her on the hood of the car. She nuzzled into him, kissing his neck and jaw until her lip started bleeding again.

"Ow," she said, reluctantly stopping and stroking her thumb over his lips regretfully.

He smirked, lifting the hem of his t-shirt and pressing it against her lip to stop the bleeding. Her fingers wandered to his abs.

"Stop getting hurt," he demanded, smiling down at her.

"Oh yeah," she agreed, nodding emphatically.

"There," he said, checking to be sure the bleeding had stopped.

"Thanks," Jax said, sliding down off the car. "Pop the hood."

"What?"

"Pop the hood, sailor. Let me see what's wrong the with engine," Jax said, her hand under the edge of the hood of the car.

"You're kidding," Steve said, incredulous, as he reached inside the car and pulled the hood release lever.

"Nope. Not kidding," Jax grinned at him, lopsided. "Danny never mentioned?"

"Um, Danny said something the other day about not letting you drive . . . "

Jax laughed. "Yeah, I scare him to death. My brother was a gear-head; fell in with a bunch of street racers back in the day, during high school, before fire academy. I hung out with them all the time. He could fix anything; taught me everything he knew, and I picked up more from the other guys."

"Did your brother race?" Steve asked, watching Jax fiddle with the engine.

"Nah, he just worked on their cars," she said, shaking her head.

"Then why . . . no way," Steve said, comprehension dawning. "Were you even old enough to have a license?"

"Nope," Jax said, grinning again. "My brother convinced me my senior year of high school to give it up, direct my energy toward something more . . . legal. Said if I was that much of an adrenaline junky I should follow him through fire academy. Of course, I had to be stubborn, went a slightly different direction. Enrolled in the police academy the day I graduated high school, the rest you know."

Steve shook his head.

"Well, I can tell you part of the problem," Jax said, wiping her hands on a rag. "You need to make some major adjustments in the fuel intake system. These older engines need to be adapted to current fuel. It's balanced differently, and your engine is original." She looked up at him, grease smeared on her cheek, her face bruised, one eye partially swollen, stitches over the other eye. Her red curls hung in glorious disarray over her face.

"What?" she said, as he stared at her.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered reverently.

She laughed out loud. "You're an idiot," she pronounced.

()()()()()()()()

The rest of the day passed quickly and pleasantly. Danny helped Gracie with her homework - schools today made fractions much more complicated than he had remembered. Steve and Jax puttered with the car and caught up the laundry, prompting Danny to try to distract Gracie from their animated conversation about the various methods of removing blood and other bodily fluids from fabric. Based on Gracie's impressed expression, he was pretty sure she hadn't missed a thing. By evening, Steve and Danny had pulled out their respective laptops to work a bit on the body parts case.

Jax pouted as Steve shooed her away from peeking at his screen.

"Malia would have my hide. No studying cases, no close reading," he said.

Danny held up his hand. "I heard the orders, too, don't bother," he said, not even looking up from his screen.

"Fine," Jax said, "come on, Gracie, let's go make the boys some dinner."

Soon, the delicious scent of food drew Danny and Steve to the kitchen. Gracie beamed proudly as she carried a platter of chicken, rice, and vegetables to the table.

"Looks amazing, Monkey," Danny praised.

"I did almost all of it," Gracie announced, as Jax nodded in agreement. Danny declared it delicious, despite the inclusion of pineapple, which Gracie defended as integral to the flavor.

Steve noticed Jax pushing food around on her plate, nibbling at a few bites of rice. He caught Danny's eye and nodded imperceptibly in her direction. She was pale beneath the bruising, pain and fatigue etched around her eyes, although she was doing her best to disguise it as she listened affectionately to Gracie's animated accounts of her friends and activities since moving to Hawaii.

"Hey, Monkey," Danny said, as she finished telling Jax about her recent field trip to observe sea turtles, "How about you and I clean up the kitchen, while Uncle Steve helps Aunt Jax find her medicine? I think maybe she's a little past due."

"Okay, Danno," Gracie said agreeably, starting to collect the plates. Danny was determined that despite her current privileged status, his little girl would appreciate and even enjoy hard work, and she hadn't let him down yet. He stood, grabbing his dishes along with Steve's.

Jax started to protest, but Danny interrupted her, speaking quietly. "You will definitely upset Grace if you pass out on the floor, which from the looks of it could happen in about two minutes. Go, look at the pretty water or something, before we call Malia."

Jax rolled her eyes at him, but swayed dangerously as she stood up. "I do enjoy watching the sunset," she said, as Danny shot her an 'I told you so' glance and Steve snagged her prescriptions from the counter.

When she was settled in the chair by the water, Steve tipped the assortment of tablets into her hand, and placed a cup of water on the arm of her chair. She downed the medicine, wincing as the cut on her lip came into contact with the cup.

"Thanks," she said, rather despondently. "Now I'll be passed out in about an hour. Or babbling like an idiot. Not sure which is worse. No, wait, the babbling is definitely worse."

"The babbling was fun, but I think you need to be passed out," Steve said, brushing her curls away from her face. "Come on, Jax, you're barely twenty-four hours from your most recent injuries; you have to be hurting. Have you even taken anything today?"

She shrugged. "Motrin at lunch. I'm okay, really." The way she gingerly flexed her hand indicated otherwise, though.

"Your hand's hurting," Steve observed, gently rubbing the battered knuckles. "Did it get x-rayed?"

"Nah, nothing's broken," she asserted.

"As soon as you're cleared, we're working on your defensive technique," Steve declared. "You need to learn to hit with the side of your hand, the heel of your hand, and your elbow; so that you're not repeatedly busting up your knuckles. I'll get you sparring with Kono."

Jax smiled at the prospect. "And that flippy thing you did; you promised you would teach me that."

"I did, so stop getting hurt, and go to PT, and I will," he promised.

She nodded tiredly and fidgeted in the chair a bit, trying to find a position that was comfortable for her aching joints and bruised ribs. Steve chuckled and tugged her hand toward him. "Come here," he said, pulling her out of the chair, sitting down, and pulling her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her gently and nudged her head onto his shoulder.

"I'm not Gracie," she pointed out, but relaxed against him just the same.

 _No shit_ , his brain contributed. _Stitches,_ he reminded himself. _Stitches, bruises, concussion. And Danny is probably watching out the window by now. Stupid, good guy Danny._

"Cozy," Danny said, coming up behind him.

 _Told you,_ his brain offered smugly.

Danny held out a Longboard to Steve and a mug of coffee to Jax. He shook his head in dismay as Jax sighed appreciatively and Steve smirked up at him, the hand that wasn't holding his beer caressing her arm gently.

"When you two are done with your increasingly disturbing public display of affection, Gracie has suggested family movie night," Danny said, waving his hand in a broad gesture toward them.

"Thank you, Danny," Jax said, in mock sweetness.

"Disturbing public display of affection?" Steve said, then whispered into Jax's ear, "I'm glad he didn't follow us into the garage."

()()()()()()()()()

By the time the movie was over, both Jax and Gracie were sound asleep.

Danny started to pick up Gracie to carry her to bed, but Steve stopped him.

"Wait, Danny," he said, easing himself out from under Jax's sleeping form. She had rested her head against his shoulder and passed out before the opening credits. "Let me carry her, partner, you don't need to pull those stitches again."

Danny nodded in agreement, and smiled as his friend and partner scooped up his precious daughter easily and tucked her in Mary's old bed. It wasn't the first time; in fact, there had already been quite a few weekend visits made possible by Steve willing to help out when he might have been too injured or exhausted to properly care for Gracie on his own. He went into the guest room and grabbed one of Jax's pillows from her bed, and settled her more comfortably on the sofa. While he was sure that Steve could and would move her just as easily, it seemed pointless.

Steve came back down the hall and smiled at the sight of Danny tucking Jax in. "I could move her, too," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but she likes the sofa sometimes," Danny said, "and I pull my stitches every time I turn over, so I'm going to stick with the recliner."

Steve frowned. "You need me to check the bandages or anything? Should have had Jax do it before she fell asleep. You okay?"

Danny waved him off. "I'm absolutely fine, Steven. Thank you, though. Go on up, get some sleep. I'll keep an ear out for these two tonight. Jax took the really strong stuff, right, from New York? I hope she'll sleep soundly. Although a repeat of brutally honest Jax would have been interesting. I wonder what she might have to say if I woke her up and asked her where you all disappeared to this morning, hmm?"

"The garage," Steve grinned, thinking that what Danny didn't know wouldn't get him in trouble. "You never told me she was a master mechanic."

"Oh, dear Lord in heaven, please tell me you are not going to turn her loose on that monstrosity in your garage? She will have it souped up, jacked up, and dragging on the H3," Danny said, shaking his head. "From what I've heard, it's a miracle she didn't kill herself long before she enrolled in the academy. Her brother said he'd never seen anything like it. The only reason she didn't have a juvie record was because no cop could ever catch her."

"The stuff of legend," Steve said, glancing down affectionately at her sleeping form. "Well, I'm thinking it might give her something to do this coming week. Malia was pretty damn emphatic that we keep her out of the office and out of trouble."

"I never thought I'd see the day that turning her loose on a car would be a tactic to keep her out of trouble, but you may be on to something," Danny agreed.

"I'll text Malia tomorrow, see what she thinks," Steve said. He bent and kissed Jax on the cheek, running his fingers through her curls, then turned and headed up the stairs. "Sleep well, Danno."

()()()()()()()()

**Sunday**

Steve's phone demanded his attention just at sunrise.

"McGarrett," he said, running his hand over his face and stretching out of bed. "I'll meet up with you at the palace and we'll go from there. Did you already call Kono? No kidding."

He quickly showered and geared up. By the time he got downstairs, Danny had thoughtfully brewed a pot of coffee.

"Thanks, man," he said quietly, pouring a cup.

"I didn't get a call, and you didn't wake me, but when I heard your boots upstairs I didn't think you were getting up for an early swim," Danny pointed out. "What's up?"

"More trouble on Sandy's Beach," Steve said. "Some of the hard core surfers were setting up for sunrise surfing, found a small cooler of what looks to be drugs washed up. Chin and I are going to check it out; no injuries or reason to suspect anyone's in danger, so there's no reason to drag you out there on your weekend with Gracie."

"Kono going out?" Danny asked.

"Um, in a little while," Steve grinned. "Apparently she was still at a party when Chin called; she's going to have a friend drop her at his place, where Malia will supervise her getting showered, catching a nap, and then dose her with coffee and catch her up to us. Malia said she'd stop by here after, check on you and Jax. Since I'm stranding you here without a car, sorry."

"No problem," Danny waved him off. "Jax isn't supposed to drive and I'm not inclined to. I have everything I need right here. Be careful, Steve. Drugs washing up after body parts; I find it unlikely that's a coincidence. If MS-13 is setting up on the island, it's a game-changer."

"Yeah, we should be able to talk to those guys from the pier by tomorrow; see what we can find out," Steve said. "Take care here; you're sure you're okay?"

"We're fine, Steve, go to work," Jax mumbled as she wandered into the kitchen. "Oh, coffee . . . "

Steve chuckled and kissed her on top of the head as he rushed out the door. She held on to her mug and smiled sleepily at Danny.

"Cartoons?" she asked. "I won't tell anyone that we started without Gracie."

()()()()()()()()

The morning passed pleasantly for Danny, Jax, and Gracie. Malia stopped by as promised, mid-morning, after dropping Kono off to meet up with Chin and Steve.

"Any word on the case?" Danny couldn't help but ask, while Malia checked the dressings on both sets of his stitches and listened to his lungs.

"They were combing the beach for more evidence and taking witness statements when I dropped Kono off," she said. "Breathe . . again . . . good." She put away her stethoscope. "Sounds good, Danny. I'm still advising light duty until your stitches come out in another week, but the lung sounds great, all things considered."

"Excellent," Danny said, "although I'm sure most of our week will be spent processing statements from the suspected MS-13 members from the fiasco on Friday."

"Chin said you've had experience with this gang," Malia said, gathering up supplies to tend to Jax.

"Yeah, this is bad news," Danny said. "I'm afraid that if they're establishing a presence here, you're going to have to work a few extra shifts."

Malia shook her head. "That's the last thing we need. You all look out for each other, okay? I don't want to see any of you as patients again any time soon."

"I'll do my best, Malia. It's Steve and Jax that you need to lecture," he said. He paused a moment, then looked at her seriously. "Malia . . . sometimes I think . . . well, sometimes I worry - I think I've been worried about something since the day Rachel's pregnancy test came back positive - you don't think Steve and Jax have a death wish, do you?"

Malia put down all of her supplies and sat down next to Danny. "I'm an ER doc, Danny, not a psychiatrist. But, I understand why you ask that question. And to be honest, I've wondered the same thing. I know Steve's history, with losing his mom, and being separated from his family, then all he had was the Navy . . . and all that came after - it's easy to imagine that he feels like a . . . commodity. A weapon. His purpose in life is to protect others, and any thoughts to his own personal safety is far distant to that objective."

Danny nodded. While he was sure sometimes that Steve's driving would be the death of him, there was no doubt in his mind that Steve would step in front of a bullet for anyone on his team, without a second thought.

"Jax . . . " Malia continued. "Well, obviously, you know her better than any of us. But I see the same tendency in her. From the first undercover job she did with you, I could tell that she would do anything to complete the mission. There was really no consideration whatsoever on her part for her own well-being. And I don't just mean that she overcomes fear and hesitation - I would imagine that's part of being a good cop. I mean that interest in personal safety is non-existent in the context of her work. Clearly, I don't know much of her personal background, but professionally I would assume that somewhere along the line, she's adopted the same mentality as Steve; that she's a means to an end."

"Protect and serve," Danny said slowly. "I want to put the bad guys away, too, Malia . . . but I also want to go home to Gracie at the end of the day."

"Well," Malia said, smiling brightly at Danny, "perhaps Steve and Jax will want to come home to each other at the end of the day. Or so I hear from Chin and Kono, who are both convinced that they are falling for each other. And I must say, watching Steve with Jax in the hospital . . . I think it's very likely."

"It's disturbing, is what it is," Danny griped. "It's like watching my baby sisters on their first dates all over again."

"I bet you didn't think so highly of their boyfriends as you do of Commander McGarrett, though," Malia pointed out.

"I also didn't worry that their boyfriends were going to take them on a highspeed chase, followed by boarding a ship like pirates, either," Danny groused, but his smile told Malia all she needed to know. "Now, can you tell me how we can get a repeat of Jax spilling her guts on those drugs? Because that, my friend, was entertainment."

Malia laughed and swatted Danny on his good arm. "You are a menace, Daniel Williams, and that's my patient you're talking about. Speaking of, let me go corner her and check her over."

Malia found Jax on the lanai, admiring Gracie's cheer moves.

"Hi, Auntie Malia!" Gracie said enthusiastically, as Malia clapped.

"Nicely done, Gracie! You're getting better and better," Malia said. "Can I borrow your Aunt Jax for a moment?"

Gracie nodded solemnly. "Danno worries when she gets hurt. Are you going to check on her stitches?"

"Yes, and some bones that have been cracked," Malia said, raising her eyebrows at Jax.

Jax ducked her head but followed Malia without complaint into the guest room, where Malia listened carefully to her lungs and gently examined her shoulder, collarbone, and wrist.

"Well, the older injuries are healing very nicely," Malia said, tilting her head in question when Jax smirked.

"Sorry," Jax said, "inside joke."

Malia smiled. "Oh, I think I can imagine. Now, let's check this bruising from Friday's adventure." She gently pressed on Jax's cheekbone and jaw, pleased to note that the bones felt stable and unfractured. Finally, she checked the stitches over Jax's eye. "Everything is healing well," Malia said. "I think getting good rest is speeding up the process. Have you been using the protocol from New York?"

"Yes, and Malia, it completely sabotaged me Friday night," Jax complained. "I had no filter. Any random thought that popped into my head just came right out. It was mortifying."

"I'm sorry," Malia said, "that is an unusual but not unheard of side effect. I'm sure it can't have been that bad."

"Malia. I distinctly remember the words 'thigh holster' coming out of my mouth," Jax said, putting her face in her hands.

Malia tried not to laugh, she really did. Finally Jax just gave up and joined her.

()()()()()()()()

Steve, Chin, and Kono found nothing in addition to the one small cooler reported by the early morning surfers. They dropped it off at the lab for processing, and added it to the list of mysterious evidence that had washed up in the brutal surf off Sandy's Beach.

"Should I call the forensics team in?" Chin asked.

"Nah," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let them enjoy what's left of their weekend. But I want Charlie on this; make sure it's logged in for him."

"On it, boss," Kono said, fingers deftly logging the evidence into the shared HPD/Five-O forensic records.

"We'll start on this first thing in the morning," Steve said, "but for now, let's call it a day. Kono, need a ride home?"

"Thanks, yeah," Kono said, following Steve to his truck. "Hey, I'm sorry about this morning," she said, climbing in the passenger seat, "it um . . . wasn't safe for me to drive when Chin called."

Steve grinned at her. "No problem, Kono. It was your weekend off. You were safe and responsible."

She thumped her head back against the seat of his truck. "I know. Sometimes I get tired of being safe and responsible. Do you?" She smirked slyly at Steve.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. The Navy had taught him well, and he wasn't arrogant but he knew that he was of well above average intelligence and intuition. But Kono . . . well, that smirk usually meant that she was on to something that he hadn't yet figured out. Experience had taught him that it was usually best to play dumb when she looked at him like that.

"Nope," he said, refusing to take the bait. "Safe and responsible works for me."

Kono studied him for a moment, then sighed. "It really does, actually," she said, shaking her head.

 _Don't ask don't ask don't ask_ , his brain reminded him. _It never ends well._

()()()()()()()()

When Steve arrived back at his house, he found it empty.

"Danny?" he called, as he walked through the hall. The sound of Gracie's laughter led him to the back door. He stepped out onto the shadowed lanai and smiled at the scene before him. Danny was relaxing in one of the chairs, watching Gracie and Jax splash in the shallow water. The tide was especially gentle this time of day, and the sun was just beginning to cast spectacular orange and fuchsia hues across the water.

Gracie disappeared under the water, and seconds later, Jax jumped and gasped.

"Gracie Williams!" she laughed. Steve grinned. He'd taught Gracie that trick, and she'd had no end of fun sneaking up on Danno underwater.

Gracie came up laughing triumphantly. "Got you, Aunt Jax!"

"You did, you little punk," Jax said, splashing her gently. Gracie saw something under the water and pointed, and Jax stood close to her and watched intently. After a few moments, Gracie had drifted away from Jax, tracking whatever creature had caught her attention in the clear water. Steve saw Jax toss a smirk at Danny and then make a perfect dive, her shoulders cutting silently and without a splash through the water, her -

 _Wow._ Steve's brain processed several pieces of information at once: first, Jax's complete ease in the water; second, the green bikini that apparently went _under_ the green board shorts; and third, the familiar board shorts tossed casually over the back of the chair next to Danny's. Having fully processed the scene, his brain offered further input. He was a highly analytical Navy SEAL, after all.

_Wow._

Gracie's delighted squeal brought him back to reality.

"Aunt Jax," she protested, laughing.

"Hey, two can play that game, kiddo," Jax said, brushing the water off Gracie's face all the same.

"Hate to break up the party, but your mom will be here soon to pick you up, Monkey," Danny called to Gracie.

"Five more minutes, Daddy?" Gracie asked.

 _Yeah. At least five more minutes._ Steve's brain agreed with Gracie. She was a clever, clever girl.

Danny smiled fondly at his daughter and Steve felt a bit of the day's tension melt away from him. There was something so fundamentally _right_ about Danny and Gracie. Being around them made him feel peaceful and grounded; a rare experience for him.

"Are you just going to stand there staring?" Danny's voice was just loud enough to carry to him, but not to the water. Steve looked up to see Danny appraising him knowingly, and ducked his head sheepishly and sauntered toward the chairs.

"Oh, my dear Lord, you are so hopeless," Danny groaned, standing and facing Steve, shaking Gracie's towel out. "She's like my baby sister, Steve. My still injured baby sister." Danny sighed.

"Yeah, well, she's definitely not my sister," Steve drawled, just to provoke Danny. And also, because, you know, he was an honest guy. Just saying.

"You're a Neanderthal, but I am leaving my rookie in your care, and I've asked Rachel to drop me off at my house on her way home with Gracie," Danny said.

"You're sure you're okay with the stitches and everything?" Jax asked, grabbing her board shorts off the back of the chair and slipping them on. Steve could have sworn he saw a flash of ink, just under the edge of the bikini, but it disappeared beneath the board shorts before he could confirm or deny.

 _Interesting,_ his brain pointed out helpfully.

Danny had wrapped Gracie in a towel. "Go on in and get changed into dry clothes, Monkey," he instructed. "And what else do you need to do?"

She threw her arms around Jax, who admirably covered her wince with a grin and a laugh. "Thank you, Aunt Jax, for swimming with me. I hope it doesn't mess up your stitches." With that, Gracie was off and running to the house.

"Danny?" Jax prompted, pointing to his stitches.

"Yes, yes, absolutely, I'm fine," he said. "I can change the bandages just fine, I promise. You," he said, kissing Jax on the less bruised side of her face, "don't forget your PT appointment tomorrow, and stay out of trouble. And I will see you at work tomorrow, Steven, where I presume I will do all manner of paperwork, especially that of yours and Kono's which undoubtedly has been neglected in my absence."

"That's possible," Steve said agreeably. No use arguing; Danny was the one restricted to light duty, why should they all suffer?

As Danny waved and headed toward the house, Steve noticed Jax easing herself carefully into one of the chairs.

"Is it possible you overdid it a bit?" he asked conversationally, sitting down next to her.

"Possible," she admitted reluctantly, "but worth it. Gracie got to swim, and I'll sleep well tonight. So what's the deal with the cooler full of drugs?"

"Forensics will have to process it tomorrow," Steve said, stretching his long legs out in front of him and relaxing into the chair.

Jax fidgeted glumly with the edge of her towel. "Sounds interesting. I guess tomorrow I'll be killing time and going to PT. I can't believe Grover actually showed up at the hospital and Malia totally sold me out."

"Well, I asked Malia if working on the car would be acceptable, and she said as long as you didn't do anything stupid like drop the hood on your head, it would be fine," Steve offered.

"Oh, well, in that case . . . a week off might not be so bad . . ." Jax said, lighting up at the prospect.

She did indeed sleep well that night; visions of fuel injectors dancing in her head.


	19. Chapter 19

**Monday**

Steve drove through the gentle Monday morning rain shower on the way to the office. He'd reluctantly left Jax, who shooed him out of the house with assurances that she was going to putter on the car a bit, and then Grover was sending someone to drive her to PT.

"I'll get the bus from PT over to your office and ride home with you, how's that?" she'd said. "Stop fussing over me. I'm perfectly capable."

He shook his head as he realized that he was looking forward to the end of the day and he hadn't even arrived at work yet. Danny would be so amused.

"How'zit, Steve?" Chin greeted him as he came off the elevator. "It's rare that we beat you to the office. How's Jax this morning?"

"A little stiff and sore, but she's going to work on the Marquis today, and then go to PT. She'll take the bus here afterwards," Steve replied.

"Wow, didn't realize she was into cars," Chin said. "Hey, I wonder how she does with bikes? I've got a misfire on mine that I can't seem to quite pinpoint."

"Not you, too, Chin," Danny complained, coming off the elevator. "Don't encourage her. Or did Steve not tell you about her other interest in cars?"

Chin raised his eyebrows in question.

"Before the academy, when she was a minor, she was part of the street racing scene," Danny explained.

"You know, she told me she'd never had a speeding ticket," Steve pointed out.

"Exactly. She was that good," Danny said, shaking his head. "Anyway, what do we have this morning?" he asked, indicating some files that Chin had already put up on the plasma screen.

"We have information on the drugs in that cooler," Chin said, as Kono came out of her office to join them. "Cocaine. High grade, high quality coke . . . laced with ketamine. The contents of the cooler alone are probably worth a hundred grand on the street."

Kono flipped pictures onto the second screen. "So, we have nine Yakuza body parts - so at the very least, we have nine high level Yakuza either seriously injured or dead. We have extremely powerful drugs. And we have at least ten MS-13 gang members on the island. All within a week."

"I would say all obviously connected," Steve said, "we just have to make the connection. Danny, we'll want to make sure you interview every possible MS-13 connection; and Chin, every possible Yakuza connection. We'll need your respective expertise. In fact, I think we should pull Grover in for this, if at all possible."

"I agree," Danny said, "the MS-13 has been a huge problem in Chicago as well. We'll need all the help we can get."

"Okay, Danny and I will meet Grover and interview Miranda at the hospital. Chin and Kono, see if you can get an interview with Akoni. He's a minor, so we may need to get a children's advocate involved, as well as his parents. Use a soft touch; he's a scared kid who got caught in something beyond his control. Does HPD still have people on his family? His sister has already been threatened."

"Duke assured me that he was on it," Chin said. "In fact, he took Akoni to HQ lock-up after he was released from the ER."

"Why?" Kono protested. "That kid didn't know what he was doing."

"Oh, he wasn't charged with anything," Chin said. "They made him comfortable, ordered him a pizza, and kept him overnight. For his protection, but also to maintain the illusion that he's Yakuza. It's safer for everyone for it to appear like he's under arrest. We can meet with him at HQ, no problem."

()()()()()()()()

Miranda tried to look nonplussed but failed. Danny almost felt sorry for him. Waking up to Grover, Steve, and himself at the foot of the bed had to be disconcerting.

That sympathy lasted until Miranda spoke.

"Ah, the three Musketeers come to avenge the little lady, eh?" he said, smirking. "Like I told the boy, she must be something pretty special, for me to warrant all of this attention. What room is she in, eh? Maybe I'll go visit her. Or have one of my men bring her some flowers."

Danny's skin crawled. "You barely scratched her, you piece of shit. We're not even here to talk about her. How many of you are on the island, and why? You have to know this island already has a controlling gang."

"Gang? I'm not sure I know what you mean," Miranda tried to play innocent. "My associates and I were here to investigate setting up an import business."

"Oh, we know why you and your associates are here," Grover said. "And the only business you're interested in is the kind that gets people hurt and killed."

Miranda grinned. "What kind of business got the little redhead hurt, eh? Someone got to her before me. Or maybe it was one of you. Maybe she likes it a little rough."

Grover and Danny each grabbed an arm of Steve's, although honestly they would have been just as happy to let him have at Miranda. The governor would have frowned upon the paperwork, though.

"Stop playing around, Miranda," Grover said, putting his intimidating frame clearly into Miranda's line of sight. "MS-13. What is your play on the island?"

"We came to try to . . . engage in mutually beneficial ventures with some native businessmen. They declined our offer and attempted to keep some of our inventory. We took certain actions to express our extreme displeasure. All in a day's work, gentlemen. You'll ship us back to the mainland, no doubt, but how many of us are here? How many more are coming? You'll be looking over your shoulders, won't you. Looking back to New Jersey," he said, looking at Danny. "And, if I'm not mistaken . . . Chicago," he added, glancing at Grover.

"And you, the quiet one," Miranda snarled, looking at Steve, "you better be looking out for your little redhead. The boys are so disappointed. I sent them her picture, had promised her to them, until you came onto the ship and retrieved her from me."

"Don't. Threaten. My. People." Grover said, his normally jovial tone suddenly dark and menacing. Danny held a restraining hand on Steve, though he wasn't sure at this point who was holding who back.

"You're right about one thing," Danny said. "You're all going back to the mainland, to prison, for as long as we can convince them to throw away the key."

Miranda shrugged as well as his injured shoulder would allow. "It's what we suffer for the cause. Cut off one head and three will grow in its place."

Steve was already out in the hallway, giving instructions to the uniformed officers. "No one gets in or out to visit these prisoners, do you understand? No one. No visitors. No phone calls. No internet access. You keep them cut off, if you have to strip them naked and put security cameras in their bathrooms, you do whatever it takes. They see no one, talk to no one, not even each other."

The officers nodded. "Yes sir. We'll call for additional units here."

"Good job, thanks guys," Steve said, reaching for his phone.

Danny joined him in the hallway. "You okay, big guy? He was just yanking our chains."

"Danny, he sent out her picture, damn it; her picture, to those animals . . ." Steve paused, holding his phone to his ear. "She's not answering her phone. She's at my house, Danny, with no one going by there until this afternoon, and she's not answering her phone."

"Let's go," Grover said, racing with Steve and Danny to the elevator. "I'll meet you at your house, go."

()()()()()()()()

"She could be swimming," Danny suggested, as they rocketed through the streets of Honolulu. Mid-morning traffic was light.

"She knows not to swim alone, especially when she's still injured," Steve said grimly.

"Okay, she could be in the shower," Danny said. "She was going to work on the car, then get ready for PT, right? So she's probably in the shower."

 _Please babe, please be in the shower,_ Danny thought, dialing her phone again.

Steve pressed down harder on the gas.

 _Shit shit shit shit_. Steve's brain was stuck on repeat. There was no appropriate word-a-day for this, just pure, unadulterated panic.

They screeched into Steve's driveway, Grover's SUV just turning the corner around the block.

"I'll take the garage, check the house, Danny," Steve said, jumping out of the car, not even bothering to shut the door. "Grover, go around back," he shouted back over his shoulder.

Steve had called the garage, partly because he really, really hoped that he would find Jax there, and partly because he couldn't face the idea of losing someone else in his own damn living room. He thumbed the safety off his Sig and pushed the door open carefully and came nose to barrel with Jax's Sig, her green eyes wide over the sights. He quickly thumbed the safety and holstered the sidearm.

"What the hell?" Jax exclaimed, as she lowered her weapon, thumbing the safety back on. "I could have shot you, you maniac!"

Her protests were silenced by Steve kissing her soundly. She had no idea what was going on, but no complaints either, so she shrugged and gladly went along, smudging motor oil on Steve's shirt as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

 _Watch the cut, you animal,_ his brain chided him. He reluctantly pulled back and checked to be sure he hadn't opened the cut on her lip in his enthusiastic relief. She smiled at him and gave a contented sigh, just like the one prompted by coffee, or guns, or his hand rubbing a sore spot, except _even better_ . . .

 _Called it,_ his brain said smugly.

"House and back yard are - oh, hello -" Grover said, grinning as he poked his head in the garage. He opened the door wider for Danny to go in.

"Oh, for the love of - thanks for letting us know you found her okay, Steven. Nothing like frantically searching the house and yard and beach for signs of a struggle while you're out here . . . doing whatever it - you know, I don't even want to know." Danny shook his head, as he smiled and sighed in relief at finding Jax safe.

"Okay, someone want to fill me in?" Jax said. "I just about shot Steve, sneaking into the garage like some ninja."

"We interviewed Miranda," Danny started.

"It did not go well," Grover continued.

"He threatened you," Steve all but growled. "And you didn't answer your phone . . . "

"And Steve went a little batshit crazy," Danny finished.

"My phone - " Jax rummaged around on the workbench. "Oh shit, I'm sorry guys. Sorry, Captain," she added, using Grover's official title.

"You're not on duty," Grover pointed out, "no apology necessary on that account. But you can understand, how under the circumstances, we were worried."

She narrowed her eyes at them. "Okay, worried, yes, and I really am sorry - that's a horrible feeling, to not be able to reach someone, I get it - but worried usually means you send a squad car by. Do I get special treatment? Because that's going to piss me off, McGarrett."

"Babe, no, if it had been Kono, or Chin, or any one of us - this is just what we do here. It's different than New York. When these guys say ohana, family, they mean it," Danny assured her.

 _McGarrett. That's kind of . . . hot . . ._ Steve's brain pointed out, as he stood mutely, admiring her blazing eyes and the way her hair seemed to curl more when she was angry.

"It was a very legitimate threat, and it needed to be taken seriously," Grover said, looking at Steve and smiling to himself. Yeah, it was a good thing Jax came to SWAT instead of Five-O. "In fact, we might have to talk about a protection detail."

"No way in hell," Jax protested loudly, waving her arms in a very Danny-esque fashion. "No way, sir. Do you think this is the first time some asswipe has threatened me? I've been a police officer for ten years and worked my way steadily up through beat cop to SWAT. I can damn sure take care of myself. Ask Steve if anyone would have gotten the drop on me today." She crossed her arms and glared at Steve.

"She had her Sig trained on me before I even opened the door," he admitted.

"Okay, okay," Grover said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Can we at least agree that you'll not wander the island alone, or be here alone, just until you're cleared for active duty again? I'll feel better when you're back in uniform and spending more of your time with your team."

"Please," Steve said, brushing her curls out of her face. "If for no other reason, Danny and I are going to be distracted if we're worried about you."

Jax opened her mouth to protest but then realized that really did make perfect sense. If Steve and Danny were distracted, it put the team in danger. "Yeah, I get that," she nodded. "Okay."

"Okay, now that's settled," Grover said. "I think it's close enough to time for your appointment, Jax, that I'm going to let these two get back to their office, and I'll drive you myself."

Steve started to protest, but Grover silenced him with an upheld hand. "Nope. She's my tac medic, McGarrett, and I'm pulling rank on you. Not to tell you how to run your investigation, but I imagine you'll want to see what Chin and Kono got out of the kid."

"You'll need to change your shirt, as usual," Danny pointed out, indicating the smudges that Jax had left on Steve's shirt, and frowning pointedly at her filthy hands.

"Oops," Jax said, completely unrepentant, while Steve gave her a dirty little smirk.

"Oh my lord, enough," Danny said, rolling his eyes as Steve bent and gave Jax a kiss on the cheek.

"See you at the office later," he said, tucking her curls behind her ear, and jogged off toward the house, Danny behind him, grousing all the way.

"Okay, then, Officer Nolan," Grover said, rubbing his hands together. "What are you doing in Steve's garage?"

Jax smiled up at him. "Um, I'm good with cars," she offered.

"Really? 'Cause we've got this one truck, motor pool can't figure . . ."

()()()()()()()()

By the time Steve and Danny returned to the office, Kono and Chin had finished interviewing Akoni.

"What did you find out?" Steve asked, as he and Danny caught up to the cousins.

"Well, he is one scared kid," Chin began, "but he wasn't able to tell us much more than we already knew. There is a sense among the Yakuza that we are on the verge of a full-on gang war, though, and that doesn't bode well for anyone. Akoni wants out, but he's understandably terrified of both the Yakuza and MS-13. He's such a low-level player, though, we can hope for the best. HPD is going to work with the family, help them out. Akoni really isn't on anyone's radar. Miranda used him simply to get a gun inside the school."

"Did he have any knowledge of the drugs?" Danny asked.

"Not that we could tell," Kono said, shaking her head. "We're not even sure how Miranda placed him as Yakuza - if he did at all. He certainly didn't involve him in any of the plans. He had no knowledge of the explosives, either. He's just relieved that the librarian is okay, and he was terribly worried about Jax. He said that he saw her head literally bounce off the floor when Miranda cold cocked her. Scared the kid to death."

"It's a good thing she's hard-headed," Danny grumbled.

"What did you all find out from Miranda?" Chin asked.

Steve sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Where to begin . . . "

()()()()()()()()

It was nearing 5 pm when Jax made it from physical therapy back to the Five-O offices.

"Jax," Kono greeted her, coming out of her office and giving her a gentle hug. "How was physical therapy?"

"I am a star patient," Jax said proudly, "making much faster than expected progress. In fact, there's talk of just one more therapy visit and two more tens visits, and then just follow up with swimming to continue to strengthen the tendons."

"Yes!" Kono exclaimed, giving Jax an enthusiastic high five.

"What's the commotion out here?" Danny goodnaturedly grumbled, as the guys all finished up phone calls and came out to join Jax and Kono.

"We are celebrating Jax's much faster-than-expected physical therapy treatment," Kono explained.

"I could be cleared before the end of the week," Jax said, flashing a note. "One more signature on this and I'm good to go."

Danny shook his head. "Only people the age of you and Kono can heal that fast. Us old farts take much longer. But I'm happy for you; just don't overdo it, okay? An extra week isn't going to make a big difference one way or another."

"Are you still up for trying to schedule lunch and a haircut on Wednesday?" Kono asked Jax.

"Absolutely," Jax said, running her hand through her curls. "My hair is going to need its own zipcode before too long."

Kono grabbed her hand and pulled her into her office. "Let's set it up; my stylist is very forgiving about missed appointments due to hostage situations and stuff."

Steve looked at them fondly as they went into Kono's office. Suddenly, Danny's comment about their age sunk in.

"Wait, Danno, you said 'the age of you and Kono' . . . Kono's only, what, twenty-five, twenty-six?" Steve said, perplexed.

"Yeah?" Danny asked. "What's your point?"

"But 9/11 was a little over ten years ago, and Jax had just graduated from the academy . . . " Steve was doing the mental math. "She can't be that close to Kono's age."

Danny shrugged. "She skipped seventh grade, graduated high school early, and the academy . . . well, they waived the rule that you had to have already turned eighteen to start. I think they decided they'd rather have her on the force than on the streets. She's . . . " Danny tried doing the math, gave up, and yelled into Kono's office.

"Jax, babe, how old are you?"

She stuck her head out the door, looking confused. "Twenty-eight, why?"

"Oh, just want to be sure we get your big three-oh planned in plenty of time," Danny waved her off.

"Yeah, you've got, like fifteen months, Danno, make it good," Jax said, turning back to Kono and entering the stylist's contact information into her phone.

Steve groaned and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

"Yeah, you get it now, buddy?" Danny groused.

"Steve," Chin laughed, "living up to the Smooth Dog name, are you?"

Steve sighed. He really would never live this down. "I thought, with over ten years on the force, I mean, I just assumed she was . . . "

"Was what?" Kono asked, sauntering back into the room.

"Well qualified," Steve said smoothly, while Chin chuckled. "Okay, let's call it a day guys, wrap up any loose ends and then head home. I'll have my laptop and cell if anyone gets any great ideas. Tomorrow, Chin and I will go talk to Sang Min, see if we can get any scuttlebutt on what's going on."

()()()()()()()()

Jax quietly enjoyed the sunset on the way home, her feet curled up under her as usual on the seat of Steve's truck.

"You didn't get it by us, you know," she said, smiling at Steve.

"What?"

"You, Chin, and Danny, flanking me and Kono from the door of the palace to the cars," she said.

Steve smiled a little sheepishly. "Damn, I thought we had that under the radar," he said.

"Well, 'Smooth Dog', you didn't," Jax teased. "But it's okay, I get it. I'm really sorry I scared you today. It's rare that I don't have my phone fully charged and at my fingertips. I guess I was just distracted with the car."

"It's okay," he said, reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Thank you for not shooting me. You and Danny have both pulled guns on me in my own garage, you realize that?"

Jax laughed. "Yeah, well, he trained me, what can I say?"

()()()()()()()()

The evening had passed quickly and pleasantly, and if Steve checked the locks a few extra times after their final cup of coffee on the beach, Jax indulged him and didn't comment.

She did, however, protest when she saw him grabbing a blanket and heading for the sofa.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"I, um, thought maybe I should, you know, sleep closer to the door," he said.

"Yes, because certainly anyone coming in here is going to knock and use the front door," she said dryly. "Steve, your ginormous truck is parked right in front of the house. I don't think anyone is crazy enough to try anything when you're obviously here. I have a baseball bat, I'm fine."

Steve frowned. "You don't keep your backup close by?"

"Not a risk I'm willing to take," Jax said seriously, "You know, with the nightmares."

That made sense. "Okay," he said reluctantly, "but you hear anything, sense anything . . . you call for me right away, got it?"

"You'll hear it the same time as me, I have no doubt," she said. "Now go, shoo, go get some decent rest."

Steve cradled her head in his hands and kissed her gently. "You too," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "I was so scared," he whispered. "I have never been so glad to have a gun pointed at me in all my life."

She laughed. "I would say don't get used to it, but somehow, I'm not sure that will be the last time."

()()()()()()()()

_Steve opened the door of the garage carefully, sweeping his Sig as he tried to visually clear the room._

" _Jax?" he said quietly, searching for her. He spotted her badge and gun on the workbench, and her phone . . . screen smashed, on the floor._

" _Jax?" he called urgently. No answer. The garage was clear. No sign of Jax anywhere._

_He stepped outside, listening for Grover and Danny._

_The first trace of blood was on the edge of the driveway. "Danny," he called, "I've got a blood spatter."_

" _Steve, stay there," Grover called from the back yard, holding his hand up in warning._

_Danny came out on the porch. "House is clear, no sign of a struggle." He started to move toward Grover. "Anything out here, big guy?"_

" _Danny, don't," Grover said, "Just - you and Steve - stay back a minute."_

" _Grover, what the hell," Steve said impatiently, holstering his weapon and striding purposefully toward Grover, Danny close on his heels._

" _Boys, no," Grover said, shaking his head. "You don't want to see . . . "_

_Boys? When did Grover play father figure? Steve wondered, as a gnawing sense of dread took hold._

" _Lou?" he said, shaking his head, "No, don't . . . Lou, please."_

" _I'm so sorry, boys . . . " Grover said, his voice thick with emotion._

" _You found her," Danny whispered._

_Grover pulled out his cell phone. "Yeah, get me a CSI unit to McGarrett's house," he said quietly. His eyes met Steve's. "No," he said sadly, "no bus."_

_Steve pushed past him, Danny right behind, and before Grover could stop them, they rounded the corner of the house. Steve recognized the riot of red curls over impossibly pale skin, and his Annapolis t-shirt, now saturated in blood from the gaping wound on her neck . . ._

()()()()()()()()

The distraught shouts coming from Steve's room woke Jax instantly. Her system flooding with adrenaline, she took the stairs two at a time, clutching the baseball bat, her feet barely touching the treads.

She didn't bother to knock quietly, she just barged in to Steve's room, bat gripped tightly, ready to take on whatever intruder had managed to reach the second floor. Moonlight flooded into the room, revealing it empty except for the SEAL currently thrashing wildly and yelling for Danny. She flipped on the bathroom light and cleared that space quickly, just in case, and then propped the bat in the corner by the door.

She approached the bed cautiously. Steve was much more violent at this point than he had been when she'd woken him from his last nightmare, and she knew she'd have to be both strategic and fast to avoid getting clobbered. Not that she cared, honestly, but Steve would. She grabbed a pillow that had been thrown to the floor.

"Steve," she called, hoping to wake him without startling him even further.

He quieted, as if he was listening for her.

She tried again, "Steve?"

The anguished cry that ripped out of his throat wrapped itself around her heart. She'd heard that sound before; it was the sound people made when she'd been forced to tell them that someone they loved hadn't survived.

"Jax?" he whispered, still asleep. "Oh, God, Jax, I'm too late . . . "

"Steve," she said, louder, and stepped closer to the bed, pillow ready to block any wild punches. "I'm right here. Wake up, babe, it's me."

Steve bolted upright in alarm. His eyes were clouded with confusion and unshed tears.

"Jax?" he said, reaching out tentatively and touching her curls.

She sighed in relief. "Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

Steve dropped his head into his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees. He wasn't sure if he was going to throw up, pass out, or both.

 _If you throw up, don't pass out,_ his brain contributed helpfully.

"You're shaking," Jax observed, pulling a blanket around his shoulders. She grabbed a glass off the bedside table and filled it with water in the bathroom.

"Here," she said, sitting next to him on the bed and handing him the water glass. His hands were shaking so badly she had to help him.

"Thanks," he finally rasped out, placing the almost empty glass back on the table. He reached for her and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. Her fingers rubbed absently through his hair until his breathing evened out.

"You okay?" she asked again. "You were calling for Danny. What was it?"

"Miranda," he said, his voice still rough. "We came to find you and . . . we were too late. Grover tried . . . but we . . . "

"Shhhh," she said, "it was just a dream, Steve, I'm right here. I'm perfectly safe."

"You're not safe," Steve insisted. "He threatened you; that animal threatened . . . "

"Steve," she said, quietly but firmly, "Do you seriously think this is the first time MS-13 has threatened me? How do you think I recognized that ink?"

He lifted his head and looked at her.

"Right. Now, do you think I'm safer here with Grover, and Five-O, or back in New York?" she asked.

"Here," he answered immediately. "Stay here."

"Okay then," Jax nodded, "that's more like it." She rubbed her fingers through his hair again, and he absently thought that if he was a cat, he would be purring.

He held her close. "Stay here," he said again, whispering into her ear.

"I am, I promise," she murmured.

"No, I mean, right now," he said, stroking his thumb over her cheek. "I won't . . . just, can you stay in here? Tonight?"

She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him gently. "Yeah, I can stay in here tonight," she said.

He stood up, cradling her in his arms, and then turned and placed her gently where he'd been sleeping, pulling the light covers up over her. She looked up at him questioningly.

"Be right back," he said, bending and kissing her gently on the cheek. He disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments, and returned, having pulled a t-shirt on over the gym shorts that he'd been sleeping in.

He grinned at the baseball bat propped in the corner as he flipped off the bathroom light. "You came armed?" he said, grabbing light blanket off the chair in the corner and coming toward the bed.

"Of course," Jax retorted lightly, smothering a yawn.

Steve stretched out on the bed, on top of the covers, and pulled the blanket over himself. He reached out and placed his hand lightly on Jax's hip, his thumb unerringly smoothing over the knife wound, despite the layers of bedding.

"This okay?" he whispered. "I'm not trying . . . it was just a really, really bad dream."

Jax intertwined her fingers with his. "It's perfect," she whispered back, smiling into the dark. "Sleep."


	20. Chapter 20

**Tuesday**

It was just before dawn when the distinct sensation of something tickling his nose caused Steve to instinctively brush his hand in front of his face.  His fingers tangled in Jax’s curls spread on the pillow next to his, and he smiled as she sleepily ducked her head deeper into the pillow.  This wasn’t what he had imagined when he had thought of waking up with Jax in his bed -- and he had thought about it, more than he would ever admit to Danny, that’s for sure -- but it was pretty damn perfect after all.

He slipped silently out of the room, and flipped on the coffee maker as he headed out to swim, the earliest rays of sun making their appearance.  

When he returned, he found Jax sitting in the chair by the beach, coffee in hand and an extra waiting for him.  Her running shoes were tossed haphazardly by her side, and she was wearing the running clothes that Kono had picked out and a decidedly disgruntled expression.

“Hey,” Steve said, smiling as he came dripping out of the water, and gratefully accepting the offered coffee.  “What’s wrong?”

She sighed dejectedly.

_ Wrong sound, _ his brain protested.  

“I was going to go for a run,” she said, “but then I remembered -- no wandering around the island alone, until, you know.  I promised Grover.  And I didn’t want you to come back and not know where I was, so . . . “

Steve nodded.  “I’m sorry; you were sleeping so well . . . I can be a little late into the office, if you want to, we can run right now.”

“Really?  But you just swam for probably an hour.”

“Not quite,” Steve shrugged.  “To hear Danny tell it, I complete a triathalon every morning before breakfast.”

()()()()()()()()

“Well, the fearless leader finally arrives,” Danny groused as Steve came in to the office. 

“Jax wanted to go for a run,” Steve shrugged, “and it wasn’t a good idea for her to go by herself, until we know exactly how seriously to take Miranda’s threats.  So I ran with her.”

“Ah, after your customary hour swim, I assume,” Danny said, nodding.  “Unless she was up at dawn, too.”

“No,” Steve said absently as he leafed through a stack of files, “she was still asleep when I got out of bed.”  He paused and frowned at a paper in his hand.  “I don’t understand why the governor doesn’t sign off on these reports the first time we submit them,” he grumbled, as he walked into his office, oblivious to Danny’s narrowed eyes and Kono’s delighted smirk.

()()()()()()()()

Steve fidgeted in the passenger seat of Chin’s SUV on the way to Halawa.  

“You’re antsy today,” Chin commented, smiling at the younger man.  

“I’m fighting the urge to text Jax every five minutes and check on her,” Steve admitted.  “Maybe I should ask Grover to send a unit over, just to be safe.”

“I don’t know Jax well,” Chin said, “but I think she might take issue with that.  From what Danny said, she got the drop on you sneaking in to your own garage, anyway.  I think she can take care of herself.”

“Then why have I spent more time with Malia lately than you have?” Steve retorted.

“Ah, that would be because Jax is reckless,” Chin replied. “There’s a difference between being able to protect yourself from danger, and choosing to throw yourself into it.”

Steve was silent for a moment, remembering his conversation with Gracie.

“Before Gracie came over last weekend, Rachel talked to her about what happened in New York, you know, so that she would be prepared for Danny and Jax’s injuries and not be upset.  Gracie said that Rachel told her that people who didn’t feel loved and needed were careless with their lives.  Obviously, Rachel was talking about Jax,” Steve said, staring unseeing at the scenery floating by the window.

“I think Rachel was talking about Jax, sure,” Chin said.  He paused, and then added, “And you.”

Steve looked at him in surprise.  “Me?  I just do what I need to do, to get the job done, get my people home safe.”

“Exactly.  You ‘get your people home safe’.  What about yourself?  Steve, I was there when your mom was killed and your dad sent you and Mary away.  He sent Mary to your aunt’s, where she was loved and cared for and continued to grow up.  He meant well, but he sent you to military academy and then straight into Annapolis and then the Navy.  You’ve spent the majority of your life getting the job done and keeping other people safe.”

Steve shrugged.  “I love the Navy, Chin.  And I got a great education at Annapolis.  I have no complaints.”

“Of course there were advantages,” Chin agreed.  “Your father wanted those things for you, and it’s made you the man you are today.  He would be proud.  But, Steve, from that day on -- were there people in your life that really made you feel loved?  Made you feel needed -- not for what you could do, but just for who you were?”

Steve thought for a moment.  “Not until I came back; not until Five-O.”

“Okay, then,” Chin nodded.  “Now, I don’t know much of anything about Jax’s past, but it sounds like she went into the police academy close to the age you were when you went into the Navy.”  Chin paused and grinned.  He couldn’t resist.  “Of course, when she was graduating high school, you had already finished college and were well into BUDs training . . . “

Steve groaned.  “Yeah, I know, she’s closer to Kono’s age than mine.  Which makes you old enough to --”

“Be her much, much older brother,” Chin interrupted.  “But my point remains, Steve, that both of you spent the last of what should have been your youth, and then all of your adult life, looking out for other people.  I don’t think there have been a lot of people looking out for you.  And yes, I think it’s made you both reckless.”

Steve pondered that for a moment.  “Well, I don’t like it when she’s reckless,” he said.  

Chin smiled.  “It’s because you care.  Now, you understand why Danny yells at you.  Okay, let’s go see what Sang Min has to say.”

They parked the SUV and went to the holding cell where Sang Min was waiting.

“You didn’t bring the spicy little lady cop?” he complained.

Steve shook his head.  “One day, you’re going to say that in front of Chin when there aren’t security cameras, and you’ll regret it.  What do you hear about the Mara Salvatrucha moving on to the island?”

“I hear they put out a hit on one of their own, right here in Halawa,” Sang Min said, his tone serious for once.

Steve and Chin glanced at each other.  

“You mean, Tomass was killed by MS-13?” Steve asked.

“That’s how they were going to know if they were being played, is what I hear,” Sang Min answered.  “That is freaky shit, man, killing one of your own.  It’s like a cult or something.”

“That’s not something the Yakuza would do,” Chin observed.  “So tell me, is the Yakuza going to go up against MS-13?”

“I don’t know, man,” Sang Min said, shaking his head.  “Word is MS-13 took out nine of the top dogs, you know what I’m saying?  Yakuza is saying that they confiscated drugs in retaliation; MS-13 is saying the Yakuza went back on a deal.  Meanwhile there’s close to a million in sweet coke and K out there, who knows where, on the island.”

“So is the Yakuza calling in new leaders?  From Japan?  Or promoting from within?” Chin asked.  “How much of a threat is MS-13 to the local Yakuza?”

Sang Min shrugged.  “I can’t answer that.  But I can tell you this much:  the Yakuza were tempted to go in with MS-13 until this happened.  So, you can assume that whatever the Yakuza knows, MS-13 knows.  I would be more worried about how much of a threat the MS-13 is to Five-O and HPD.  You guys have actually been solid to me; I’ll see what I hear, let you know.”

()()()()()()()()

After a silent ride back to headquarters, Steve and Chin broke the news to Danny and Kono, who had been following up on Akoni’s situation and helping the family get settled in a more secure location.

“Here’s what we’ve got,” Steve said, as they stood around the computer table.  “Sang Min seems worried, which is never a good sign.  That one cooler we found was just the tip of the iceberg; there’s almost a million worth of drugs unaccounted for.  There’s a turf war between the Yakuza and MS-13 and each are after these drugs.  One of the groups likely has them, but who knows which one?”

“And, Sang Min pointed out that since there was an attempt at coordination and cooperation, the MS-13 likely knows a lot of what the Yakuza knows -- specifically, the identification of key law enforcement on the island.  We need to let Grover and Duke know, and all of our people need to be extremely cautious,” Chin added.

Danny sighed.  “Great.  I’ll let Rachel know, once again, that divorcing me didn’t solve all of her security issues.”  He stepped into his office to make the call.

“Kono,” Chin said, turning to his cousin, “I don’t doubt your ability for a minute, but I would rest better if you stayed with me and Malia until we have some more answers.”

For once, Kono didn’t argue.   After Steve’s absentminded comment that morning, she’d texted Jax and discovered the reason behind Steve waking up with her in his bed.  She didn’t want to put her beloved cousin through the stress, so she simply nodded.  “I’ll pack a bag and be there before dark this evening,” she said, to his surprise.

Steve glanced at his watch.  “You know what,” he said, rubbing the back of neck to try to eliminate some of the building tension.  “I’m going to call Grover and Duke.  Let’s all call it early for today -- go do whatever it is you need to do, stay watchful, and then head home.” He nodded at Danny, who’d come back out of his office to join them.  “If you need to go by and check on your family, that gives you time.  Don’t make any assumptions, okay?  If something feels wrong, call it in.  Don’t take any chances.”

Danny followed Steve into his office.  “You call Grover, I’ll call Duke,” he offered.  “I’ll make sure Stan and Rachel have their security system activated.  Maybe even stay there tonight if they want me to,” he added.

“Good call,” Steve said.  “I mean it, Danny, don’t take chances with your family.  You call me and HPD if anything feels wrong.”

Danny nodded.   “How worried are we about Jax?”

“Worried enough that I’m picking her up from her physical therapy appointment and not letting her ride the bus here,” Steve answered.

“She might be pissed,” Danny pointed out.

“I’ll risk it,” Steve said.  

()()()()()()()()

**Wednesday**

Everyone’s evening turned out to be blissfully uneventful, and the next morning dawned without incident.  Danny drove Gracie to school himself, after leaving Stan and Rachel with simple reminders to keep their doors locked, their phones handy, and their eyes open.  Chin and Kono dropped Malia at the hospital with similar instructions.

Steve decided to forgo his morning swim in favor of coffee and a sunrise walk on the beach with Jax, who was determined to do everything in her power to earn her early reprieve from medical leave.  After leaving her with firm instructions to watch her six while she puttered in the garage, and confirming with Grover that a fellow SWAT member would give her a ride to her physical therapy appointment later that morning, Steve was back in the office before the rest of the team.

“Good morning, boss,” Kono said cheerfully as she tossed her bag and keys onto her desk and joined Steve at the computer console.  “What’s next?”

“Next, we try to track down all of these missing drugs,” Steve said.  “We have zero leads, other than the cooler in the lab.  That’s a massive amount of drugs unaccounted for.  Since the cooler washed up on Sandy’s Beach, I’d like for you to reach out to your surfing contacts, have them be on the lookout for anything else unusual.  The last thing we need is some kids stumbling on this stuff.”

Kono nodded.  “I’ll get right on it.  Hey, do you mind if I take a longer lunch today?  I was going to pick up Jax from PY and take her with me to get a haircut.  I figure especially under the circumstances, you’d rather us stick together, right?” she added hopefully.

“Kono, I can’t believe you’re using a security risk to wrangle a long lunch,” Danny teased.  “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Hey, I’m hanging out and offering added security for the boss’s girlfriend, there should be perks,” Kono insisted.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve protested automatically.

“Seriously, boss?” Kono said, crossing her arms and facing off against Steve.  She never had been especially intimidated by him, now that he thought of it.  He liked that.  Usually.

_ Watch out.  She’s smirking at you.  This is a potential hazard.  Proceed with caution,  _ his brain advised.

“What?”

“Okay.  Say you did have a girlfriend.  If she got hurt, and was at the ER, would you pick her up, and make sure she had everything she needed?”  Kono asked.

“Of course,” Steve said.

“Right.  And how many times have you done that in the last few weeks?” Kono pressed.

Steve thought about that for a moment.  “More than I’m happy about, but she’s also a member of our sister law enforcement agency, and a friend of Danny’s.”

“You’re making my point for me, boss,” Kono said, shaking her head, “because in that case, Grover and Danny should have been picking her up.  But I digress.  Let’s say, again, for the sake of argument, that you did have a girlfriend.  What would you do for a date?  And I don’t mean, what do you think most lame girls would want to do on a date -- I mean, what would you do, as a fun date, with a girl that would want to do what you think is fun?”

Steve could answer that one quickly.  “Run on the beach, go to the shooting range, eat dinner together at my place  -- oh.”  He stopped short.

Kono grinned wickedly.  “Want to re-evaluate your assessment of the situation, Commander?”  she said.  “She’s your girlfriend.  In fact, she’s your ideal girlfriend.  So, I repeat my question, after I spend the morning touching base with my surfing contacts, could I have a long lunch?”

“Yeah, good, that’s fine,” Steve said, a bit absently, as Kono practically skipped into her office.

Steve looked at Chin.  

“Don’t look at me, Steve,” Chin laughed.  “And here you thought a million dollars worth of drugs would be your biggest problem today.”

()()()()()()()()

The team spent the morning contacting every person on the island that might have any inkling or information on the whereabouts of close to a million dollars worth of cocaine and ketamine.

Kono’s eyes looked a bit glazed when she popped her head into Steve’s office shortly before noon.

“I’ve got absolutely nothing, boss,” she said, discouragement lacing her tone, “but everyone’s promised to keep eyes and ears open and keep me posted.  I’m heading over to Queen’s to pick up Jax.  We’ll just come back here when we’re done, okay?”

“Sounds good, Kono, thanks,” Steve said.  “And Kono . . . for what it’s worth, I’m really glad that you and Jax are friends.”

“Me, too, boss,” Kono said, smiling, but serious.  “She really is awesome.  You did good.   See you soon.”

Kono waved to Chin on her way out the door.  “I’ll check on Malia, too, Chin,” she offered.

()()()()()()()()

“So, how’s physical therapy?” Kono asked, as she and Jax left the clinic and climbed in Kono’s car.

“Really, really good,” Jax said, “and I really do think they’re going to clear me tomorrow.  I just have to get Malia to sign off on the concussion, and I could be back to active duty on Friday.”

“Hey, don’t you want to enjoy one more long weekend?” Kono asked, as she pulled out of the clinic parking lot.

“Oh, goodness, no,” Jax groaned.  “I’m going crazy.  If I hadn’t been able to work on the Marquis, I would have lost my mind.  Between that and doing some cooking, I’ve had fun, but I’m so over it.”

“I need to get in on this cooking business,” Kono said seriously.  “The only think I can make is a phone call to takeout.  Okay, here’s the place.  I think you’ll like my stylist -- she really knows how to deal with this humidity and the sun and stuff.”

Jax looked at Kono skeptically.   “You know I am clueless when it comes to this right?  I mean, we’ve not known each other very long, but long enough to establish this fact.”

“I’ve got you, Jax,” Kono laughed.  “Come on.”

An hour later, Jax had to admit that Kono was right on target.  Her hair didn’t look drastically different, but the stylist had declared her cut “too east coast” and given her a gentle, beach waved effect.  It didn’t fall quite as heavily into her face, which made Jax feel self-conscious, but Kono assured her that it was better to see her pretty green eyes than to hide them.

They were enjoying a simple lunch at an outdoor cafe when Kono looked down at the table and spoke quietly, her smile not at all congruent with her words.

“Okay, I thought it was my imagination at first, but I think we have a tail,” she said, while appearing to giggle and show Jax something on her cell phone.  “On your six.”

Jax played along, and pulled a pair of mirrored aviators out of her backpack.  She handed them to Kono, who put them on and posed for Jax to take a picture with her cell phone.  Jax studied the reflection in the lenses quickly.  “Okay, see the ink on the left forearm?  That’s MS-13,” she said calmly.

“Gotcha,” Kono said, while pretending to take a picture of Jax.  “So, what’s the play?”

“Send that photo to Chin, get him to run facial recognition,” Jax said.  “So far, we know that Miranda claimed to have sent my photo out to his goons.  Go around back, flank the guy.  See if he makes a move on me.  If so, we take him down and haul his ass in to HPD.”

Kono pretended to giggle.  “I think we should haul his ass in to Five-O,” she said  “Are we gonna have jurisdictional pissing contests like Steve and Grover did their first few cases?” 

“Nah, whichever of us gets the cuffs on first gets the collar,” Jax suggested.

“See, the boys should learn to play this nice,” Kono agreed, as she picked up her bag.  “Do you have your service weapon on you?  Badge?  Cuffs?” she asked, as she racked the slide on her H&K and came up triumphantly with a lipstick.  “You’re not on duty.”

“Oh, please,” Jax scoffed, reaching into her bag and likewise thumbing the safety off her Taurus.  She pulled out a small journal with one hand and kept the other hand firmly on her weapon in her bag.  “When are we ever not on duty?”

Kono flashed a genuine smile at her.  “Watch your six, sistah, until I can get around the building to watch it for you.”  She had already hit send on her simple message to Chin, knowing that while one of them would run facial recognition, Steve and either Danny or Chin would be headed their way as fast as the laws of physics would allow.  “You know the guys will be headed for us but for the moment, we’re on our own.  You’re sure you’re good with this?  We could just duck inside.”

“No way,” Jax said.  “If this guy is tailing either of us he has intel.  Go.  I’m good.”

()()()()()()()()

“Steve, Danny,” Chin called urgently, walking quickly out of his office and putting his phone on the computer console.  He flashed the picture up on to the screen.

“What’cha got, Chin?” Steve asked, joining him in a few long strides.

Danny came quickly.  “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding to the picture on the screen, which was already flashing through facial recognition software.  

Chin isolated and enhanced the image of the tattoo.  “Look familiar?” he asked Danny.

“Yeah, that’s MS-13 ink,” Danny confirmed.  “It’s distinctive.  Low-level.”

“Well, this guy is following Kono and Jax,” Chin said, picking up his phone.  “Location is on your phone, Steve, go.  I’ll run recognition and call Grover.”

Steve and Danny dashed into their offices for their badges and weapons and were out the door as Chin picked up his cell phone once again.  

“Grover, this is Chin Ho Kelley . . . “

()()()()()()()()

By the time Grover’s SUV and Danny’s Camaro arrived at the scene, skidding to a halt with lights flashing, a small crowd had gathered.

Danny tried to muscle his way through the crowd, and noticed, not for the first time, that people simply parted to allow Steve through.  His presence just had that effect on people.

“Like Moses and the freakin’ Red Sea,” Danny muttered.

They arrived at the edge of the cafe patio just in time to see Kono clicking the cuffs into place while Jax cleared the chamber of the suspect’s handgun.  The man was sporting an abrasion on his cheek, and the knees of his pants were torn.  He was alternating between scowling and leering at Kono and Jax, and before he took note of the three men standing before him, he made the grave error of actually opening his mouth and speaking.

“Hey, ladies,” he drawled, “if you like it rough, we can make it rough.”

Danny recognized the ankle sweep that Jax executed as she accidentally dropped her set of cuffs and went to retrieve them; while Steve was pretty sure he was the one who had taught Kono the particular angle at which she held the suspect’s arms, causing him to whimper and ask for the holy mother to save him.  Either way, he said nothing else as Grover lifted him bodily off the ground with one meaty hand wrapped in his shirt.

“What was that you were saying to these fine officers?” Grover asked, smiling down at the man.

“Nothing,” the man stammered.

“Good, I didn’t think so,” Grover said, patting him none-too-gently on the side of the face, while Danny and Steve smiled humorlessly.

“Sorry, Captain, it’s Five-O’s collar,” Jax said, turning the handgun over to Danny.  “Kono and I . . . well, it was whoever got the cuffs on first.  Also, I’m technically off-duty, so . . . “ she shrugged.

“No problem, Officer Nolan,” Grover said, as he gently turned Jax from side to side with a hand on her shoulder.  “Off-duty paperwork is a hassle.  You okay?”

“Absolutely fine,” Jax said.  

Steve was doing the same to Kono, as he relieved her of her prisoner.  “You good, Kono?” he asked, his eyes expertly sweeping over her for any signs of injury.

“I’m great, boss,” she said, giving the suspect an extra shove into Steve’s hands.  “He was no problem.”

“Okay, well, let’s go get statements and interviews,” Grover said.  “I’ll escort this yahoo back to Five-O, since none of you people drive vehicles suitable for hauling suspects.  What, you just shoot all of them?” he muttered.  “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he added to the handcuffed man.  “If they were going to shoot you, it would have happened before we got here, I can tell you that.  You messed with the wrong girls, my friend . . . “  Grover continued to lecture the man on the error of his ways as he shoved him into the back of his SUV.  “Officer Nolan, care to ride shotgun, in case this idiot gets any other ideas?”

“My pleasure, Captain,” Jax said, as she joined Grover and climbed up into the passenger seat.

Steve smiled after her until Kono smacked him gently on the back of the head.

“Boss,” she drawled.  “How about we head back to Five-O to interview this asshole?”

()()()()()()()()

“What was that, hunh?” Danny asked, after trying -- admirably, if you asked him -- to restrain himself.  He’d lasted five minutes.

“What was what, Danny?” Steve said, in that put-upon patient tone of his.

“That . . . that goofy, smitten, Kono had to smack you to get in the car thing you pulled back there,” Danny said, shaking his head.  “Are you going to be exceedingly distracted?  Because, again, I only ask that you keep me informed so I know when to duck.”

“I am not distracted, Danny,” Steve said.

“Then what was with the staring after Jax with that goofy smile on your face, if not distracted?  Hmm?  Studious?  Reflective?  Pensive?  What?”

Steve looked over at Danny, incredulous.  “Pensive?  How many word-a-day calendars do you own, Danny?”

“Eyes on the road, Steven,” Danny complained, gesturing.  “And you’re deflecting.  You were clearly distracted,  standing there like a big goof, watching . . . oh my lord.  You were checking out her . . . as she climbed in . . . that is patently unprofessional.”

“I was not,” Steve protested.  “I was watching to be sure that Captain Grover and Officer Nolan had the prisoner secure before I returned to my vehicle.”

“My vehicle, thank you very much, Commander Control Freak, and you were not.  You were checking out . . . if you looked at Kono like that, you’d be on the wrong end of Chin’s shotgun.”

Steve nodded solemnly.  “You don’t have a shotgun, Danny.”

“Not the point, Steve,” Danny threw up his hands in exasperation as Steve smiled.  “Oh, don’t smile at me, you Neanderthal.  Don’t think Kono and I didn’t catch you slipping up yesterday morning.”

“Danny, what the hell are you talking about?” Steve asked, exasperated.

“‘She was asleep when I got out of bed’” Danny mimicked.  “Those were your exact words, Steven.”

“What?  I don’t even remember what you’re talking about Danny; you’re being ridiculous.  Also, I think just maybe you have your mind in the gutter, have you thought about that?  Hunh?  Maybe that’s the problem,” Steve said, taking a turn a little sharper than was absolutely necessary.

“I do not -- that is completely -- no, stop trying to change the subject.  How, pray tell, did you know that Jax was asleep when you got out of bed yesterday?” Danny demanded.

“Not that it is actually any of your business, but you know I get up early to swim, and so obviously, if she was not up and around when I went out to swim, she was asleep.  It’s logic, Danny, you should try it sometime,” Steve said.

“Logic?  Logic, he says.  Okay, big guy, logic would dictate that you say, oh, I don’t know, something like, ‘she seemed to still be asleep when I went out to swim’.  That would be logical.  ‘She was asleep when I got out of bed’ indicates that in the action of you getting out of your bed, you were witness to Jax being asleep.  I’m a detective, Steven, a detective.  I notice the subtleties of human interaction. And that, my friend, was a subtle but unmistakable admission to Jacqueline Nolan in your bed when you woke up on Tuesday.  Tell me I’m wrong.”  Danny paused for breath and looked expectantly at Steve.

“Jax was in my bed on Tuesday morning when I woke up,” Steve said, looking Danny square in the eye.

“Road, Steve,” Danny warned.  He wasn’t sure why he bothered -- it was just the principle of the thing -- Steve’s peripheral vision and reflexes on a bad day were better than most people’s focused driving on a good day.  “And she was okay with this?” he asked, seriously and quietly.

“Well, considering that she had to wake me up shaking and screaming in the middle of a nightmare that we found her dead in my backyard, wearing my Annapolis t-shirt, soaked in blood because her throat was slit, she seemed okay with sleeping in my bed, with me fully dressed and on top of the covers next to her, holding my hand, yes,” Steve said, equally serious and quiet.  

Danny deflated instantly.

“Oh, babe,” he said, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry.  You okay?”

“I’m fine, Danny,” Steve said automatically.  “But come one, man, it’s me.  It’s  _ me _ , Danny.  If you really think that I would ever do anything to hurt her, we better partner up with different people.”

Danny studied Steve for a moment.  “You’re right.  I apologize.  I mean it.  And I’m very sorry, Steve, that you went through that.  And I don’t think you’re fine.  You wanna talk about it?”

“No, Danny, I want to go beat some information out of this jackass that Kono and Jax took down today,” Steve said, pulling into the parking lot of the palace.

“That sounds good, too,” Danny agreed.  “Are we good?”

“We’re good, Danny,” Steve assured him.  As they entered the building, Steve sighed.  “I just hate that we didn’t get to see Kono and Jax kick his ass.”

()()()()()()()()

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, with Chin taking statement from Kono and Jax while Grover, Danny, and Steve interviewed the MS-13 member.  Within an hour, Grover was saying his goodbyes as Steve and Danny headed back upstairs.

“What did you find out, boss?” Kono asked.

“Well, he was definitely tailing the two of you,” Steve said, “though it appears that Jax was the primary target, courtesy of Miranda’s photo of Jax that was sent out.”

“He gave up the names of the other three active members, who didn’t show up on the dock, in exchange for being sent back to the mainland.  Seems they have sense enough not to want to be incarcerated with a predominantly Yakuza contingency,” Danny added.  “And thankfully, the ones already in custody, and the four additional we have now, seem to be the extent of Jax’s exposure as a specific target.”

“So I can go about my business like a normal person now?” Jax said.

“As normal as any law enforcement officer with a gang war brewing, sure,” Danny retorted.

“So all in all, it was a great day,” Kono said cheerfully.  “We got haircuts, had a nice lunch, and caught a bad guy.”

Jax grinned in agreement.  “And I used to not like the idea of a girls’ day out,” she said.  “This was really awesome.”

Chin shook his head in disbelief.  This was not what he and Malia had in mind when they had encouraged Kono to develop friendships with other young women her age.

“Speaking of which, what do you think of the haircuts, boss?” Kono asked, fluffing Kono’s curls expertly with her fingers and looking expectantly at Steve.

“I think you both are amazing, and you both have really pretty hair” Steve said in honest sincerity.

“I have never said this before,” Danny said, “but for the first time I have to wonder why you are still single.”

“Why’s that?” Steve asked, still looking fondly at Kono and Jax as they went into Kono’s office.

“Because, my friend, you managed to come up with the one -- and only one -- acceptable, safe, and appropriate response to the most dangerous question known to man,” Danny said, as Chin nodded in agreement.

Steve shrugged.  “Just call it like I see it, guys.  Come on, let’s shut it down and head home.”

()()()()()()()()

“I get moco loco?” Jax grinned, as Steve pulled into the little take-out place she now recognized.

“You and your buddy captured a dangerous criminal today,” Steve said, climbing out of the truck.  “You don’t have to cook.”

“Gosh, I’ll remember that,” Jax said.  She leaned her head against the truck window and closed her eyes for a moment.

“You okay?” Steve asked, climbing back in and starting the truck.  “Did you get hurt today?  You should have said something.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.  “It was a great day.  I think the adrenaline is wearing off.  Nothing a good meal and a longboard by the water won’t fix,” she added, sniffing appreciatively at the bag on the seat next to her.

When they pulled into the driveway, Steve spotted two packages by the front door.

“Were you expecting anything?” he asked Jax, frowning.

“Yeah, I think those were the papers and small items Danny had sent ahead of some of the larger stuff,” she said.  “Let me text him to confirm.”  She understood Steve’s caution.

He ran his fingers through her curls while they waited for Danny’s reply.  “I really do like the hair,” he said, smiling at her.

“Yeah, Kono knows this stuff,” Jax said.  “It’s a good thing.”

Her phone pinged.  “Yep, Danny said he had an email confirming delivery.  The packages should be just fine.”

“Good,” Steve said, grabbing the bags.  “Because I’m too hungry to have to wait for the bomb squad.  I would have had to disarm them myself.”

Within moments, they were in their customary gym shorts, enjoying their dinner and beers in the chairs by the water.  The boxes had been placed neatly on the dining room table.

“Is this enough for you?” Steve asked, out of the blue.

Jax looked at him curiously.  “Actually, I can’t even begin to finish it.  I’ll eat the rest for lunch tomorrow,” she said, tucking the lid back onto her meal.

“Oh, that’s . . . are you sure?  Malia said you really needed to gain some weight . . . but that’s not what I meant.  I mean . . . “ he paused, unsure of how to explain himself.  “This.  Take-out and beer in my backyard.  I have to be honest with you, this is pretty much my idea of a good evening.   And lots of times, there’s paperwork to do, and then I sleep, swim, and start all over again.  Weekends, yeah, if we don’t get a case, sometimes I manage to get out on the water, or go to the range, or Danny brings Gracie over . . . but this is pretty much my life.  I just wondered . . . Kono said something today . . . I mean, for some people, this wouldn’t be nearly enough.”  He stopped and looked at her.

“You mean,” she said slowly, picking at the label on her Longboard, “for some women, this isn’t enough?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Aside from the required events for the governor, or sometimes for the Navy, there’s rarely a reason for anyone in my life to, you know, get dressed up and do anything special or fancy.”

Jax broke into a brilliant smile.  “Really?  Rare? How rare?”  She sounded relieved and excited, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Couple times a year, max?” Steve said uncertainly.  “Kono thinks . . . well, Kono is convinced that we’re, I don’t know, dating or something.  And that we’re doing all the stuff that I want to do . . . “ 

“McGarrett,” Jax began firmly.

_ Damn, that  _ is _ really hot, _ his brain commented.

“Are you asking me if I am content with moco loco and beer in your backyard, weekends with Danny and Gracie, and going to the range?” she continued.

“Yeah,” he said, relieved.  She got it.  “Rarely anything fancy or special . . . mostly this, and the team, and that sort of thing.  If Kono is right, and you’re my girlfriend, or whatever . . . is this enough?”

“This,” Jax said, standing up and gesturing at the water and the sand stretched out in front of them, “is everything I could possibly ever want.”  She stepped in front of his chair and looked down at him -- it was a switch from their usual perspectives, and they both smiled at the change.  

“You,” she continued quietly, “are everything I could possibly ever want.  So I sorta hope Kono is right and I’m your girlfriend--” her sentence was interrupted when Steve wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, kissing her gently -- “or whatever,” she finished, grinning and wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back, a little less gently.

_ Hot damn, _ his brain contributed, before he quit thinking altogether.

()()()()()()()()

It was dark by the time they made their way back to the house.  They tidied up the kitchen, and Steve nodded at the packages on the table.

“Do you need to deal with those?” he asked.

Jax yawned and shook her head.  “Nah, it’s just files and stuff.  I think maybe some smaller things of  Billy’s.  They’ll keep.”

Steve kissed her goodnight and reluctantly headed up the stairs, reminding himself that Danny was a good guy.  Really.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thursday**

"Boss, I'm not getting anywhere," Kono complained, walking into the office on Thursday morning. "I need to just head over to Sandy's, hang out with the locals, see what I can pick up."

"And you're confident that I will agree," Steve said mildly.

"Well, yes, because it's perfectly reasonable," Kono said.

"No, I mean, you are really confident that I will agree. You're wearing a bikini under your clothes," Steve grinned. "Go. Be careful," he added. "Anything comes up, you call me or Chin for backup, got it?"

"Got it, boss," Kono answered, beating a hasty retreat before he changed his mind.

Danny smiled at Kono as she breezed by him on her way out the door.

"Permission to surf on the clock?" he asked Chin, who smiled and nodded in affirmation. "Anything else come up?"

Chin sighed. "Nothing. It's as if the drugs and the remaining MS-13 - because there's no way we were so lucky as to round them all up - have just vanished. The island isn't that big, Danny. The Yakuza are either extremely careful or extremely concerned - or both. We're not getting any leads."

"I'm not surprised," Danny said. "This is one of the most insidious organizations I've ever come up against." He hesitated. "Malia is being extra careful, right?"

"Yes, I'm dropping her off and picking her up for her shifts, and when she's home she's setting the alarm. And, I didn't tell her, but Duke is having an extra patrol car in our neighborhood. Kono's, too," Chin said. "And Grover is having a couple of his guys stay at a discreet distance from his family. We're all taking this very seriously."

"Good," Danny sighed. "I hate that our families have to live this way, but better safe than sorry. Stan has private security on Rachel and Gracie." He looked up as Steve joined them at the computer table. "Hey, what about Jax?"

"What about Jax?" Steve asked, pulling up a file onto the plasma.

"Do you have any units on her?" Danny asked. "Come on, I know you."

Steve grinned sheepishly. "Well, I may have arranged for her physical therapy and doctor's appointments to have been moved to earlier today . . . so that it was just as convenient for me to drop her off at the hospital complex on my way in this morning. And from there she'll come here, on the bus . . . so . . . yeah. But if she asks," he added quickly, pointing at Danny and Chin, "no, there are no units following her, because there aren't, and there is plausible deniability that I had anything to do with her change of appointment. Got that?"

"Oh, yeah, got it, 'boss'," Danny said sarcastically. "I'll make sure not to say anything to get you in trouble with your five-foot nothing girlfriend."

Steve didn't take the bait. "She's five one, Danno," he said, smiling at Danny. He turned his attention to the file on the screen. "Okay, our known MS-13 are accounted for; it's the unknown that we have to track down. I don't think we're going to get any more useful information out of them."

"Same with the Yakuza angle," Chin said, sighing, as he pulled up the file of the nine men identified by Max. "Based on Miranda's account, we are operating on the assumption that MS-13 took out these nine Yakuza leaders. But we can't be entirely sure."

"So, we keep this entire case open," Steve said. "If those drugs are still on the island then eventually they will surface. The Yakuza and MS-13 will both claim them."

"Meanwhile," Chin said, "a reminder came from the governor's office - payroll and requisition forms are due."

Steve groaned and headed back to his office.

()()()()()()()()

Kono called in shortly after noon.

"Boss," she said breathlessly, "the waves are amazing. Oh, and I was invited to come back this evening for a bonfire, so if there's anyone who's found and using the drugs, odds are good they'll make an appearance there."

"Okay, follow up," Steve said, "but you absolutely have to take at least one person in with you, who can watch your back."

"On it," she replied, "I have a couple of friends in mind. Do you need me to come back into the office for the afternoon?"

"Nah," Steve said, "go get rested up. Be careful, Kono."

Steve hung up the phone and rubbed his hand over his eyes. When he looked up, Jax was coming off the elevator, triumphantly clutching several pieces of paper in her hand. He leaned his head on his hand and watched as Danny came out of his office to greet her.

Danny put his arms around her and swung her off her feet as she laughed.

 _You should call Mary,_ his brain prompted him.

He stood and leaned in the doorway of his office and continued to watch quietly as Danny checked Jax's recent injuries. The bruising was almost completely faded, but she still had stitches over her eye, and her lip wasn't quite healed.

 _Recently aggravated injury,_ his brain supplied with smug satisfaction. _Not entirely your fault._

"You're sure, babe?" Danny was asking quietly. "You could take more time, you know Grover wouldn't mind."

"I'm sure, Danny," she said. She looked up and saw Steve and her eyes lit up.

"Hey," she said, holding up the papers. "I'm cleared for active duty. Malia even signed off on the concussion." She fished around for a specific paper. "Grover sent me to ask for a semi-auto with a shorter stock from the armory here." She frowned slightly. "All of the ones at HPD SWAT have too long of a barrel."

Steve smiled down at her. "Congratulations. Come on, let's get you sorted."

Danny smiled fondly as he watched the two of them move toward the elevator, Steve's hand automatically curving around her hip. It was good to see Jax with a bounce in her step. Active duty. Danny sighed.

"She's cleared?" Chin asked, coming out of his office to join Danny. "Sorry, man, I know you were enjoying a few days of not having to worry about her as much."

()()()()()()()()

"Try this one," Steve said, handing Jax a rifle.

"Nice," she commented, turning it expertly in her hands. "It's on the heavy side," she commented, lifting it to her shoulder and checking the sights.

"Sig 716 Patrol Short Barrel," Steve said, "very low recoil." She might be cleared for active duty, but he knew from experience that her shoulder and collarbone would ache for weeks.

He tossed her an empty cartridge, and leaned against the table, watching her as she deftly shoved it into place and locked the bolt carrier with a satisfying click.

 _Oh, hell yeah,_ his brain offered.

"Work for you?" he asked. He tried to keep his voice level and professional, but based on Jax's quick glance up, he suspected he'd failed. Her wicked grin confirmed it.

"Oh, yeah," she said slowly, double checking the safety and carefully placing the gun on the table. She stepped closer, his position leaning against the table minimizing the difference in their height.

She traced delicately over his tattoos, sliding her fingers under the edge of his shirtsleeves. "It definitely works for me," she said.

His hand dropped to her hip again, his thumb brushing over the scar. Curling his hand gently, he pulled her another step closer, and tangled his other hand in her hair. Jax sighed as he cradled her head in his hand and kissed her; as always, gently, carefully, giving her any opportunity she might need to stop him. She couldn't imagine ever wanting to, but the thoughtfulness behind the gesture brought a rush of tears to her eyes.

"Ku'uipo" Steve whispered, "I'm sorry - did -"

"No, no," she assured him, boldly taking another step even closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around her waist. "It's . . . thank you," she whispered.

"What for?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

"For not looking for the bruises, for one thing," she said, smiling up at him. "For being . . . careful."

"Always," he whispered.

"Oh, God, I hope not," she said fervently, a twinkle in her eye. "But, for now . . ."

He smiled and bent to kiss her again, his arms tightening around her as she returned the kiss with enthusiasm, until -

"Ow," she said, reluctantly breaking away. The cut on her lip had opened just slightly. She reached up and wiped a tiny smear of blood from Steve's lip. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Really not a problem," Steve said, his voice just slightly strangled. "But for the love of God, please, try to stop getting hurt."

She laughed then, the rare full blown, whole-hearted laugh that reminded Steve of everything that had ever been right in his world.

He ran his fingers through her hair and tugged his shirt sleeves back in place as she smirked at him.

"We better go back up before Danny sends search and rescue after us," he said. "Do we look sorted?"

Jax snorted. "You - are afraid of Danny," she said incredulously. "And hell no, we don't look sorted. My lip is bleeding, my hair is tangled - no, thanks, but you're making it worse - and you look ridiculously smug. No, don't apologize; it's a really good look on you."

Steve groaned as he handed her the Sig 716. "Can we just salvage what remains of our dignity and head home?" he asked as he locked the armory door behind him. "Maybe Danny's already left," he added hopefully.

No such luck. Danny smiled at Jax as she exited the elevator.

"Did you have to test fire every - your lip. is. bleeding." Danny narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Steve, who looked like he suddenly didn't quite know what to do with himself, and shifted uncomfortably under Danny's gaze.

Jax, however, was completely unrepentant. "Really?" she asked, eyes wide in mock innocence. "Gosh, if only there was someone here that could kiss it and make it better . . . " she tossed over her shoulder as she sauntered nonchalantly past Danny and into Steve's office.

Steve looked so flabbergasted that Danny's sympathy for his friend and partner won out over his protectiveness of Jax. It appeared that she was well in control of the situation. Yep, Steve had met his match with that one.

()()()()()()()()

The ride home was pleasant and Steve enthusiastically took Jax up on her offer to cook.

"Is there anything you're bad at?" Steve asked, as he tucked in to a second helping of pork stir-fry. It was simple, but so delicious. Maybe in part because it was so rare for someone to cook for him, but he was pretty sure the sauce that she had mixed up had a lot to do with it. "You're a cop, a medic, a mechanic, and you cook . . . "

"There are lots of things I'm bad at," Jax said, nodding. "Stick around, you'll see."

She stopped, swallowed, and bit her lip nervously. Steve recognized the gesture of insecurity immediately: fear of abandonment. If Danny had psychoanalyzed him once, he'd done it a thousand times, and for once Steve was thankful for the information.

"Jax," he said, putting his fork down and reaching across the table to take her hand. "I intend to stick around as long as you'll put up with me."

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "I should check through those boxes Danny sent," she said, changing the subject.

"Yeah, bring them in here, the light's better," Steve offered, "I'll clean up."

Jax disappeared for a few minutes, and returned to the kitchen in her usual gym shorts and tshirt, carrying the boxes. She grabbed Steve's knife from the counter, where he'd laid it next to his keys, and slit the box open; smiling as she recognized it as the knife he'd used to cut the zip ties around her wrists the day that Miranda had dragged her onto the ship.

The box contained a series of folders that Danny had neatly packed from the small file cabinet she'd shared with her roommate.

Steve heard her chuckle as he finished drying the last dish, and turned to see her leafing through a file.

"What'cha got?" he asked, curious.

Jax groaned. "Oh, an example of something I'm really bad at," she said. "My high school transcript." She shrugged and held it out to Steve.

He raised his eyebrows. "Um, wow," he said, surprised to see a generous number of D's scattered throughout. "Danny said you skipped a grade, though, and come on, you're obviously smart."

"I skipped seventh grade, yeah, but by the time I got to ninth . . . well, let's just say that my choices in friends affected my grades," Jax said. "Among other things," she added seriously.

She studied Steve for a moment. "I bet you were a straight A student, in addition to being the quarterback, captain of the football team . . . hmm . . . not band . . . but something service oriented. Am I close?"

"Volunteer lifeguard," Steve admitted.

"I can see that," Jax sighed. "You were the kind of guy I made fun of and secretly envied. And you had a lot more choices available to you at graduation than I did. If the police academy hadn't accepted me, given me a chance . . . anyway, you wouldn't have wanted to hang out with me when you were in high school."

Steve hated the distressed expression on her face and decided to lighten the mood. "Yeah, because when I was in high school you and Kono were in . . . oh, yeah, let's not go there," he said, grinning.

It worked. Jax looked once more at her transcript and put it back in the folder.

"I enjoy hanging out with you now," Steve said, tucking his finger under her chin and tilting her head up so that he could look into her eyes. "And you're a credit to the police academy. I'm sure they never regretted giving you a shot."

She continued glancing through her files, muttering to herself. "Insurance, banking, taxes . . . "

Steve spotted an official looking stack of papers. "What are those?" he asked, nodding at them.

"Oh, those are certificates and stuff," Jax said, shrugging and continuing to leaf through the folder in her hand.

"May I?" Steve asked. Jax nodded absently and he began to carefully leaf through the certificates.

 _Medal of Valor, Exceptional Merit, four . . . no five Commendations, Meritorious Duty . . . holy shit,_ his brain contributed.

"Jax," he said slowly, "you are a highly decorated officer. Shouldn't you be in . . . I don't know, administration or leadership or something?"

Jax looked slightly horrified. "Half of those came from 9/11," she said. "I can't even . . . it feels wrong. To be congratulated for . . . I lost more people than I saved that day, Steve. It's . . . I don't know how to explain it."

"You don't have to," Steve said quietly, "I get it."

"You have a stack of them, too, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, and most of them . . . there's a person lost or injured in most of the ops they represent. So yeah, I understand. Still, it is an honor, Jax, and the department was right to commend you."

She gently took the papers from him and put them away, reaching for the other box.

"I wonder what's in here?" she said, cutting through the packing tape. This box was deeper and didn't look like it held paperwork.

There were layers of white tissue paper. "Okay, Danny's sister had to be responsible for this," Jax laughed, sorting through the paper. Suddenly her hands stilled and Steve heard a soft gasp.

He stepped behind her and looked down into the box. Her fingers were tracing over a handful of FDNY patches and an assortment of medals and pins that had been carefully attached to a shadowbox frame. She lifted it gently to retrieve a framed picture from underneath, and pulled it out carefully.

"This is you and your brother," Steve guessed, wrapping his arms around her and looking over her shoulder at the picture. A young man, his hair several shades darker than Jax, was carrying her on his back. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a loose braid, her Converse sneakers untied. Both of them were laughing; looking at each other, not the camera.

"Billy's friend Jake took this the day I got accepted into the academy," she said, her fingers stroking the edge of the frame. "Billy threatened to physically haul me into fire academy instead. Jake said that no, I would never be able to hang on to a live fire hose, and besides, they didn't have turn-out gear small enough."

Steve chuckled. "Maybe he had a point."

"Billy laughed and said that Jake just wanted to avoid the fraternization conflict, which I thought was terribly funny." She stopped short.

"It wasn't funny?" Steve guessed.

"Turns out, no, it wasn't," Jax said, "We started seeing each other after I turned eighteen."

Steve had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"Ku'uipo . . . " he sighed, his heart breaking for this younger version of the woman he held in his arms.

"I assume he and Billy were together . . . I hope they were. I guess, I don't know . . . if one of them was injured maybe it would have been awful. But I like to think they were together . . . they were inseparable so it's likely they were. And I like to think that it was quick, you know? That they weren't trapped, or . . . " she broke off. "But there's no doubt, they would have been among the first to go in; they were like that, both of them. Fearless. Selfless. My folks were so proud of Billy."

Steve didn't bother to point out that her folks should have been proud of _her_ , and focused instead on gently brushing away the tears as they fell down her cheeks.

"Danny never mentioned," he murmured quietly, turning her around in his arms and cradling her head against his chest. He gently carded his fingers through her hair, his other hand tracing over the scar on her hip.

"I was really young, and Danny probably assumed I dated, but I don't think he knew that there was, you know, someone specific," Jax said. She brushed at her eyes impatiently and pulled away from Steve. "I'm sorry," she said, "you can't possibly want to hear about my teenage romance."

Steve shook his head. "Jax, don't apologize for sharing your past with me. I'm honored. And I'm so sorry that you lost them both. I can't imagine."

"It's weird," Jax said, carefully packing the picture and other items back into the box. "I remember the year that I realized that I was older than the boys were on 9/11 . . ." She stopped and put her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle a sob that caught her by surprise.

Steve wrapped her in his arms again, stroking her hair.

"It's okay, ku'uipo," he whispered. "I know, sometimes it comes out of nowhere and takes you down. I've got you."

He held her as ten years of grief finally demanded to be reckoned with. When he felt her knees tremble, and she grabbed him fiercely for support, he simply lifted her into his arms and settled with her onto the sofa, rubbing soothing circles on her back and murmuring soft words of comfort into her ear. He finally felt her relax, and realized that she had fallen asleep.

He carried her into the guest room and placed her gently on the bed, covering her with the soft blanket that he had quickly come to think of as hers. He kissed her cheek tenderly and turned to leave the room, but then stood in the doorway for several long moments, waiting to be sure she was sleeping soundly. Leaving the door open, he reluctantly made his way up the stairs.

()()()()()()()()

_That was the thing he hated most about Afghanistan: the constant, random, explosions. They came out of nowhere: no pattern, no predictability, no way of knowing if one of his men wouldn't be coming back that day due to the sound that he had just heard._

_He covered his ears, futile in his efforts to block out the sound . . ._

()()()()()()()()

_She had no idea what had caused the explosion at first. Another subway bomb? No, there was smoke in the air already, and people were looking up. Holy shit, the tower . . . someone must have bombed the tower. Shocked silence quickly gave way to panic, and screams . . . and more sounds of explosions. And then, eventually, the horrific sound of the bodies falling._

_She covered her ears, futile in her efforts to block out the sound . . ._

()()()()()()()()

Steve realized two things almost simultaneously: one, it was thunder, not explosive devices, and two, the sounds of distress were coming from Jax, not from his men. He shot out of bed, brushing aside the last tendril hold of his own nightmare, threw on a tshirt, and took the stairs two at a time.

He approached the door of the guest room cautiously, his eyes adjusting quickly to peer inside. No sign of Jax in the bed. He looked down the hallway toward the living room, but his attention was drawn back to the bedroom when he heard a soft noise.

Looking more closely, he spotted her: curled into a corner of the room, hands pressed tightly over her ears, knees drawn up to her chest.

"I can't . . . " he heard her whisper brokenly. In two steps he crouched at her side. He tilted her head up toward him, not trying to move her hands away from her ears, but trying to make eye contact.

"Jax," he said softly, trying to gauge her level of awareness. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused.

"I'm sorry, I can't do it again," she said. "Not again."

"Jax," he said, a bit louder, urging her to look at him, to focus on him. "You don't have to do it again, ku'uipo. It's a thunderstorm. Okay? A thunderstorm. You don't have to do it again, I promise."

"Thunder?" she asked, her eyes starting to focus. "Oh . . . "

"Yeah, it's just a storm," Steve said, coaxing her hands away from her ears and rubbing them gently.

"Steve, oh God, I'm so sorry," she said, struggling to stand up. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, the storm woke me up. It's okay, I get it, believe me," he said, pulling her to her feet. "I was back in Afghanistan for a few minutes there."

She rubbed her eyes wearily. "Sorry, this happens sometimes . . . and the pictures and . . ." she shrugged. "I'm sorry, I'm just a wreck tonight. I'm sorry you have to deal with all this . . . "

Steve wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed against him.

"You know what helps?" Steve asked.

"Hmm?"

"Let's go outside and watch the storm. You won't mistake it for an explosion, not if you can see the lightning over the water."

Minutes later, they were curled in a chair, Jax's favorite blanket draped over them, watching the storm.

"You're right, this is amazing," Jax sighed contentedly.

"Yeah, we don't get many storms, but they're pretty spectacular," Steve said, absently caressing her arm.

She snuggled into the comfort of his arms.

"Thank you. No one has ever . . . the nightmares are . . . no one sticks around for this part," she admitted reluctantly. "The whole, sleeping through the night and reacting to things normally . . . those are a couple of the things I'm bad at. I told you, stick around long enough and you'll see."

Steve kissed her gently. "And I told you . . . I'm sticking around," he assured her. "Now, try to sleep, okay? Take a night off from being a bad ass SWAT officer. I've got you, ku'uipo."


	22. Chapter 22

**Friday**

Steve was momentarily disoriented at the buzzing of his phone. As he scrambled for it, he remembered the thunderstorm ending . . . remembered . . .

"Answer your damn phone," Jax grumbled good-naturedly, poking him in the shoulder.

Oh yeah. He remembered carrying Jax upstairs after she'd fallen asleep watching the thunderstorm.

His phone was still buzzing insistently.

"McGarrett," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Queens? Okay, I'll drop Jax off at HPD and head straight there. Call Charlie, ask him what he needs for the lab. Good work, Kono."

Jax sat up, brushing her wild curls out of her face. He smiled over his shoulder at her.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, "I don't even remember . . . did I wander in here uninvited?"

"Nah, you fell asleep watching the storm and I carried you up . . ." He hesitated. "Was it okay? I mean, I probably should have asked . . . "

"Steve," she stopped him. "It's fine. Does Kono have a lead?"

"Yeah, a couple kids apparently did some coke at Sandy's Beach last night; got in over their heads. Kono called a bus for them and rode with them to Queens. She's thinking they may have come across the ketamine laced coke that's missing in the Yakuza and MS-13 fiasco," he explained.

"I'll be ready to go in ten," Jax said. She pressed a quick kiss to Steve's shoulder and then slipped out of the bed and headed quickly down the stairs to the guest bathroom.

Steve was filling two travel mugs with coffee when Jax came into the kitchen. Her hair was darker, still damp from the shower, and accentuated the paleness of her skin. She came to claim a mug of coffee and smiled up at Steve, fatigue evident in the faint smudges of dark circles under her eyes.

"You okay?" he asked, gently tracing a finger over the stitches still above her eye.

"I'm good," she nodded firmly. "Rough evening, but I'm okay. Let's get to work."

()()()()()()()()

They beat the eight am traffic, and Steve had dropped Jax off and was striding into Queen's Emergency Department before the morning shift change. He reached for his badge but the receptionist waved it away.

"Good morning, Commander McGarrett," she said. "Officer Kalakaua said you would be here soon. She's in the family waiting room at the end of the hall, talking to the parents."

Steve waited outside the door of the waiting room. He'd learned that Kono could handle family interviews and notifications just fine and unless there was a need for it, he didn't add to or interfere with her process.

Kono came out and closed the door quietly behind her.

"Hey, boss," she greeted him, fatigue evident in her tone and the weary slump of her shoulders. She had an abrasion on her cheek and a nasty scrape on her arm.

"Shit, Kono, what happened?" Steve asked, alarmed, as he gently turned her arm and then tilted her jaw to inspect her cheek.

"Wiped out on a wave, brah," she said. "Sandy's surf earns its reputation."

"You okay? Did you get that checked out?"

She waved him off. "We've got two college kids, down the hall. Their vitals are stabilizing but they won't be ready to interview for a while. Parents will ensure full cooperation. I suspected they were using so I tailed them. One of them had a seizure and the other panicked and admitted to using - she was terrified by that point. I questioned their friends, and these two claim to have been given a "sample" from someone earlier in the evening."

"Okay, we'll get sketch over here, maybe we can get a decent description," Steve said.

"Good luck," Kono snorted. "They are still alternating between the high and the trip. But, they seemed surprised at the effect. Either this was their first time and they were completely clueless, or this is a different mix than what they've used before. The doctors have them on IVs to flush their system; we should be able to at least talk to them in about an hour."

"Did either of them still have any drugs in their possession?" Steve asked, as he once again checked Kono's injuries and looked for any more.

"Yes, I've already sent it over to Charlie. Would you stop? I'm fine," Kono protested.

"You need to go down to the ER, get that cleaned out before it gets infected," Steve insisted.

"When did you turn into Danny?" Kono grumbled. She paused, and then her face lit up. "Oh, wait, no, I know what this is. Someone is bringing out the softer side of Steve McGarrett."

"Would you - just go to the ER, Kono," Steve said, smiling in spite of himself.

()()()()()()()()

By the time Steve and Kono made it back to the palace, Charlie had identified the drugs as a perfect match to the contents of the cooler.

"It's definitely the same mix, same batch. The concentrations are identical," he explained. "If we can find out who gave the drugs to those kids, we could have a lead to the rest of the supply."

"Chin and Danny are running the sketch and all the information we have through the system," Steve said, "though we don't know how reliable it is. Still, it's better than absolutely nothing, which is what we've had so far."

Back at his desk, Steve took a moment to send a text to Jax.

_Know you're working. Just checking in._

He paused and his brain started in with a running list of ideas: _I miss you, I want to wake up with you next to me every day, please don't get hurt, do you have a tattoo . . . okay, STOP._

He went ahead and hit send before he added anything potentially incriminating, then stood and went to check on Chin and Danny's progress.

"Anything?" he asked, joining them at the console.

"Based on the information, we're first checking against local low-level suspected or previously convicted dealers. If someone is giving out samples, they're going to be using novices," Chin said.

"Then when they get the kids hooked, they set them up to buy. It's also a good way to flush out undercovers," Danny added. "If they get busted for possession, the damage is minimized because the quantity is so small."

Steve sensed Danny's scrutiny and tried to somehow look more . . . alert. Awake. Not as if he'd slept part of the night in a chair watching the lightning.

"You look tired," Danny observed. Steve glanced at him, expecting a sarcastic rant, but Danny was studying him kindly. "Let me guess - thunderstorm?"

Steve sighed in relief. "Yeah, sort of got both of us," he admitted.

"You both okay?" Danny asked, giving Steve's arm a squeeze.

"Yeah," Steve said, surprised at Danny letting him off so easy. "No lecture? No third degree?"

"Not when I've been with both of you when . . . no. No lecture. I'm glad she wasn't alone," Danny said. "She's not a kid anymore, Steve, I realize that."

"We've got something," Chin said, putting a file up on the screen. "Those kids gave a decent description after all. We've got a match."

"At least it's a start," Steve said, glancing down as his phone pinged with an incoming text reply from Jax.

_On break. Stocking the bus. What's a "howlie" again?_

Chin smiled as he watched Steve morph from aneurysm face to smitten face. Come to think of it, Danny was really spot on with the various faces of Steve McGarrett.

()()()()()()()()

Steve and Danny headed out to interview the person deemed likely to have given out the sample of drugs.

"What's on your mind, Steven?" Danny asked, smiling fondly at his friend and partner. "I can hear the wheels grinding."

Steve hesitated a moment but decided that Jax hadn't indicated that she minded Danny knowing about Jake - just that he hadn't.

"Did you know Jax was seeing someone while she was in the academy?" he asked.

Danny looked up in surprise. "Really? I knew she spent her off time with either me and Grace or with her brother. There was someone?"

"Yeah," Steve said, "friend of her brother's. Jake."

"Oh, man, I met him. He was in FDNY with Billy. I had no idea . . . really? I wonder why she never mentioned it," Danny said.

"What would you have done if she had?" Steve asked.

"Well, I would have run a background check, I would have talked to him - oh," Danny stopped and laughed. "Okay, so maybe I understand why she didn't mention it. Did they date a long time?"

"Until 9/11," Steve said.

Comprehension dawned on Danny. "Oh, shit, Steve. No."

"Yeah. She went through the boxes last night. That picture you packed up? Jake was the one who took the picture," Steve explained.

"No kidding? Man, I love that picture of the two of them. I had no idea . . . damn it, Steve, why didn't she say something to me?" Danny shook his head.

"You'd just lost a partner, found out you were having a baby, and she'd graduated and taken a job with NYPD. Don't be so hard on yourself, man. You didn't know then what you know now," Steve said. "But between that, and then the thunderstorm . . . it was a rough evening."

"Do you need to find another living arrangement for her? Seriously, my place isn't that bad, and since the close call in New York and the school shooting, Rachel has dropped the threats of fighting over custody," Danny said.

"No, I wouldn't change a thing, Danny," Steve said. "I, um, I really like having her at home. At my place."

Danny smiled. "Never would have thought it . . . but if you're both happy, then I'm happy for you both."

"Thanks, Danno," Steve said. "Here's our place."

Danny gave out a low whistle as he looked at the ramshackle hut. "Proof that crime does not pay, my friend."

They cautiously approached the front door. Steve knocked.

"FIve-O, we need to speak with you," he called out. He raised his eyebrows at Danny in amused question. Danny had been trying to educate him on the proper tone - authoritative but not threatening. He smiled when Danny nodded his approval.

They heard noise at the back of the decrepit dwelling.

"Why do they always run," Danny sighed, as Steve grinned and took off at full speed around the side of the house.

Danny approached more cautiously toward the opposite corner; gun drawn, ready to back Steve up. He heard the scrambling footsteps of the hapless Yakuza trying to take off into the surrounding brush, and the quick, almost silent footfalls as Steve cut him off. Danny turned the corner of the house in time to see Steve make a perfect flying tackle.

Danny shook his head as Steve grinned - _grinned_ \- up at him, from his position on the ground, his knee in the guy's back, pulling his arms back and cuffing them.

"Okay, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Steve said, hauling the scrawny young man to his feet. "You can tell us who has you giving out samples, and where the stuff is stashed; right here, right now, and we add you to our list of cooperative citizens. Or we take you into Five-O, and talk to you there, and it ends differently for you."

"Man, I don't know what you're talking about," the suspect whined.

"Okay, you'll figure it out in interrogation," Steve said, shoving him carelessly toward Danny. "Book him, Danno."

"Wait, wait, okay," the protest came quickly and within fifteen minutes, Steve and Danny were speeding back toward the palace.

()()()()()()()()

"This will be like going home for you, won't it, Steve?" Danny asked, as they headed toward the town of Waipahu. If their newly-cooperative citizen was accurate and truthful, the entire inventory of drugs had been stashed away in an abandoned pump station. The only problem was, even the young Yakuza member was unsure who he had been taking orders from in handing out the 'samples' - his own gang, or newly controlling MS-13.

"The pump station was built by the Army, Danny," Steve said, exasperated. "The Army. I'm in the Navy."

"Reserves," Danny pointed out.

"Seriously? Right now? We're on our way to recon for a million dollars worth of missing drugs, and you're going to do this now?" Steve said.

"Watch the road, Steve," Danny said, automatically. "And would you please tell me again, why we are not taking back up? I mean, the four of us are amazing, but what if the place is crawling with MS-13 or Yakuza? It's not like we even know who is controlling this inventory of drugs at this point."

"I'm sure the place _is_ crawling with MS-13 or Yakuza or both," Steve said, with put upon patience. "Which is why Chin and I are going in to check it out. You and Kono are the back-up. We find out what we're dealing with, and then we go back, form a plan with HPD and SWAT."

Steve and Chin had carefully determined the point at which they would abandon the vehicles, leaving Danny and Kono to stand by for back up. Chin smirked as Steve checked his phone while pulling on his Kevlar and thigh holster, and Kono caught Chin's eye and nodded at the soft smile that stole across Steve's face as he typed a quick reply to Jax's message.

" _Haole". Non-native. Like Kamekona calls you "pretty little haole". Gotta run. See you at home._

"What?" Steve said, quickly schooling his features as he looked up and realized he'd been busted by the cousins. "She's having trouble picking up some of the pidgin. Let's go."

Danny and Kono watched as Steve and Chin practically melted into the underbrush and disappeared.

"How do they do that?" Danny wondered aloud. "I'm assuming Steve picked up his ninja skills in the SEALs, but what about Chin?"

"There's island stuff that even I don't understand, and don't ask about, brah," Kono said.

Danny glanced at her to see if - nope, she was dead serious. He studied her for a moment and decided that it wouldn't hurt to keep his mouth shut just this once.

()()()()()()()()

Much to their surprise, Steve and Chin reappeared within the hour.

"No luck?" Danny asked.

"Depends," Chin said. "Not a sign of life."

"But a shit load of drugs," Steve added. He pulled out a tiny vial. "We'll get Charlie to run it but I'm pretty sure this is the stash."

"What, so you just left it there for the wildlife to enjoy?" Kono asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Nah, we slipped in a tracking device," Steve smirked. "The drugs move, we follow."

"We have to assume the Yakuza stashed the drugs here," Chin explained. "I doubt MS-13 has been on the island long enough to know about this place. If we'd just confiscated the drugs, we wouldn't know what the play is or who the players are. This is not low-level; if we bust someone on this it will be one of the major players."

"Nice," Danny commented. "But please, if the drugs move - can we call for backup?"

Steve slapped him on the shoulder. "Okay, Danno, if it means that much to you . . . "

()()()()()()()()

By the end of the workday, Charlie had made a positive match between the sample that Steve and Chin brought back from the pump house and the drugs from the cooler.

"Okay, so this is definitely the stash, and now we're set up to monitor. We'll need to watch this twenty-four seven," Steve explained. "I hope your weekend plans can accommodate some shifts watching the GPS tracker for movement."

The rest of the team groaned but nodded in agreement. "I don't have Gracie this weekend, so sure," Danny said. They agreed on a schedule and started shutting down their respective offices for the evening.

Steve popped his head into Danny's office. "You wanna grab some Chinese food, spend the evening at my place? Celebrate Jax's first day of active duty?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Danny said. Steve might be a badass Navy SEAL who could kill people with his pinky finger, but from their first bizarre interaction, he'd also proven to be incredibly sensitive to Danny's potential loneliness on his weekends without Gracie. Sometimes Steve came up with a plausible reason to include Danny in his weekend plans, and sometimes he didn't even bother; just barged in and picked him up on the way to wherever he was going, or conveniently drove them to his house in his truck and pretended not to consider that Danny was then stuck there. Danny knew that more than likely he'd end up crashing in the guest . . . well, now in Mary's room. Until eventually . . . the guest room would be available again because Jax would be sleeping . . . he sighed.

"You okay, partner?" Steve asked, studying him.

"I am," Danny replied. "Just coming to terms with the probable circumstances of my reclaiming the guest room at your house."

Steve ducked his head sheepishly. So this was what it was like, to date the sister of a buddy . . . yeah, there was a reason he had avoided this.

"So, I'll swing by and pick up Jax at HPD," Steve said. "You grab the foot, meet us at my place?"

Danny agreed readily. It wasn't until he was halfway to the take-out place that he realized that Steve had once again conveniently stuck him with the bill.

()()()()()()()()

It took Steve a little longer than expected to set up the tracking software to his finicky standards; and then there was the unexpected call from the governor. He shot off a quick text to Jax before he started up his truck.

_Still at HPD? I'm on my way._

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced down to see the reply.

_Shift just ended. Meet in parking lot._

Steve frowned slightly. He wouldn't have minded at all walking in to find Jax . . . maybe she was tired and ready to head home to relax. But she'd texted earlier to confirm the meaning of haole . . . it nagged at him as he merged into the day's end traffic.

He pulled into the HPD parking lot, scanning and spotting her, sitting on the stairs. Catching sight of his truck, she grabbed her backpack and headed his way before he even pulled into a parking space.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Hey, yourself," she replied, smiling back. Steve noticed that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes, though, and she was biting her lower lip. She pulled up her legs underneath her and fastened her seatbelt.

 _Too far away,_ his brain protested.

"How was your first day of regular duty?" he asked, somewhat cautiously.

She was silent for a moment, pondering. "I think it's going to take some adjustment," she said finally.

"Jax, is everything . . . did anyone give you a hard time?" Steve asked.

"Steve, I can't . . . look. It was my first day. Give me time to figure it out, okay?" She looked out the window.

He hesitated and then decided to risk putting his hand on her knee, gentle and warm, and when she reached down and twined her fingers through his, he took that as a good sign.

They rode in companionable silence through the glow of the evening sun. Danny's Camaro was already parked in front of Steve's house when they pulled up, and Jax squeezed his hand when she noticed it.

"Oh, yeah, Danny doesn't have Gracie, so he's hanging out here this evening. Also, we have to watch a GPS tracker - long story," Steve explained, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles gently.

She smiled, a genuine, all-the-way-to-her-eyes smile, and Steve felt a bit of the knot of tension unravel.

"Good call?" he said.

"Very good call," she nodded, and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks."

As they walked in the house, Danny started up his usual rant.

"Nice way to stick me with the bill, McCheapskate," he started. "I'll pick up Jax, you pick up dinner . . . nicely played. So we're drinking your beer, I'll have you know."

Steve just smiled and took a beer from Danny's hand.

Jax hesitated a moment. "Guys, go ahead - save me some dumplings, Danny, those look amazing - I need to . . . I'm going to go for a run."

Danny looked at her sharply.

"You okay, babe?" he asked, brow furrowed in concern. He glanced up and behind her at Steve, who shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

"I'm good, Danny, just my first day back on active duty, and thinking, you know, I've got to get back in top shape. I've been out of it for a while. And if I wait too long, it will be dark, and I shouldn't run in the dark," she justified.

Steve ran a finger through her curls. "You're okay to run alone?"

She nodded. "I'll carry my phone."

"Okay . . . be careful." Steve really didn't like the idea of her running alone, not with the trouble between the Yakuza and MS-13 brewing, but he recognized that edge of desperation in her voice as well, and knew she needed some time and space to work out whatever was going on. Plus, it would give him time to talk to Danny.

"Okay, that's a good idea or . . . okay, you're giving me permission?" Jax snapped.

 _Whoa. Hazard hazard hazard abort abort_ , his brain chanted helpfully.

 _Shit. Fix it fix it fix it,_ her brain scolded her.

"Sorry." "Sorry." Their apologies tumbled out at the same time and they stood looking awkwardly at each other. Danny observed in amused silence. Steve had never actually _lived_ with a woman before; he was going to have a bit of a learning curve.

Steve shook his head slightly. Speaking seemed to be getting him in trouble again, so he decided to take a different approach. He tangled his hand in Jax's curls and kissed her, gently but without hesitation.

Maybe there wouldn't be much of a learning curve after all, Danny thought, as he watched the anger simply melt away from Jax.

"Have a good run," Steve said.

Jax nodded. Steve decided that startled speechless was a _really_ good look on her, and filed that away for future reference as he watched her disappear into the guest room.

Danny plated up some food as Steve set up the GPS tracking system where he could keep an eye on it. They heard the back door close.

"I'm once again impressed," Danny said, handing Steve a plate.

"What?" Steve said, around a mouthful of eggroll.

"First with the perfect answer to the haircut question, now with diffusing the landmine that is Jax's temper," Danny answered. "You do surprisingly well for a Neanderthal."

"I just read the situation and react accordingly," Steve shrugged. "It's a SEAL thing." He just couldn't resist baiting Danny sometimes. "Seriously, Danny, what is going on with her? I mean, yeah, she has a temper, and it's really -" Danny was giving him that 'choose your next word carefully' look, so he abandoned _sexy-as-hell_ and went with " . . . cute; it's adorable. But that was pretty specific. That was a trip-wire."

Danny nodded. "Remember when she cut her foot? She yelled at you for calling her one of 'your people'."

"So I'm a possessive bastard when I have no right to be?" Steve asked quietly.

"Maybe there's some control issues, for both of you," Danny suggested. "You're a control freak, you know. And she's . . . "

"What, Danny?"

"Well, think about it, Steve. She's a cop; SWAT even. Pretty much used to being in control, too. And then O'Neil . . . " Danny swallowed hard.

"Took control. Violently." Steve finished. "Shit, Danny."

"Yeah," Danny said, pushing his food away from him.

"I think something happened today," Steve said. "She's been off since I picked her up, but she won't tell me what's wrong."

"Should we call Grover?" Danny asked.

"She'd kill us both," Steve said, shaking his head. "She said to give her time to figure it out. That it would be an adjustment."

Danny nodded. "Steve, you've never worked in law enforcement."

"So you remind me," Steve said, smirking.

"Each unit has its very own dynamic. And I was HPD for a few months. Let me tell you - it's not an easy dynamic for an outsider. For a haole," Danny said, emphasizing that last word.

"She texted me today, asked me to remind her what "howlie" meant," Steve said slowly. "You think they're giving her a hard time?"

"I know they're giving her a hard time," Danny said. "The question is, are they giving her a hard time because she's new, she's young, she's female, she's an outsider, she's still got stiches over her damn eye, or . . . " he hesitated.

"Say it, Danny," Steve snapped. He knew where this was going.

"Or because for all they know, she's sleeping with the head of Five-O. It's a small island, Steve," Danny said apologetically.

()()()()()()()()

"Captain Grover, have you left for the day?" Sergeant Duke Lukela asked, glaring at the SWAT and HPD officer standing in his office, chests heaving, blood and sweat dripping onto their uniforms. "No? Excellent. Could you please come to my office. Thank you."

Grover sighed, put his keys back in his pocket, and headed toward Duke's office. As he got closer, he could hear angry voices, Duke's voice rising to the top.

"The both of you, sit down and shut up," he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

When Grover walked into the office, he saw Duke, standing behind his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He was staring at the two officers seated across from him.

Grover's senior SWAT medic groaned when he entered the door. "Captain, I can explain," he started, but stopped when Grover held up his huge hand.

"Unh unh, Officer Halia, you don't speak just yet," Grover said. "Duke, what's going on?"

"Well, I went to get in my car to head home for my much-deserved weekend off," Duke said, "and found these two duking it out in the parking lot."

"That haole of theirs started it," the HPD officer interjected.

"Officer Wikolia, I highly recommend silence on your part. When I want to hear from you, I will let you know," Duke said. He turned to address Grover.

"From what I gather," Duke continued, "some comments were exchanged earlier in the day, which Officer Halia deemed necessary to address after hours. As you and Officer Halia are guests in my office, I'll allow you to give your officer the opportunity to express his concerns first."

"Thank you, Sergeant Lukela," Grover said. "Now, Halia, what seems to be the problem?"

"We were inventorying and restocking the SWAT bus today. We had to bring requisition and inventory forms over to the office, so I suggested Officer Nolan come with me so I could show her where to file the paperwork. When we came in, this asshole - sorry, Captain - Officer Wikolia was laughing and showing his buddies the video. From New York."

"The video . . . " Grover tilted his head at Halia, confused.

"From the elevator, sir. When Williams was being held by that bastard - sorry sir - that, you know," Halia said, gritting his teeth. "The one that assaulted Officer Nolan."

"Ah," Grover said, turning and looking down at Officer Wikolia. "And why did you feel it appropriate to pull any background information on my new SWAT medic, Wikolia? That's above your paygrade."

"I'm tired of HPD bringing in all these haoles," Wikola spat. "What, Williams wasn't enough? We had to bring his little bitch in after him? We gonna share her with Five-O, or you think Five-O is just gonna share her amongst themselves?"

Halia jumped up out of his seat. "What, saying it to Officer Nolan wasn't enough for you? You gonna keep saying it?"

Grover held up his hand. "Halia, are you saying that Officer Wikola said this in the presence of Officer Nolan?"

"Yes, sir," Halia confirmed, as Duke stared unbelieving at his officer.

"I didn't know she was in the room," Wikola said petulantly.

"Oh, because that makes it just fine, now, doesn't it?" Grover said sarcastically. "And what was Officer Nolan's response? She just let that go?" He somehow didn't think the feisty officer would have slunk away quietly.

"No, sir," Halia supplied, "she did not. She kicked the legs of his chair out from under him and had her boot on his throat before any of us knew what happened."

Grover looked up as Duke tried to disguise a snort of laughter as a cough.

"And what did you do, Officer Halia?" Duke asked.

"I picked her up and hauled ass - sorry, sir - out of there. I didn't want her to get in trouble her first day of full-time active duty. Told her that this piece of shit wasn't worth it," Halia explained.

"And then you waited for him in the parking lot?" Duke asked, looking reprovingly at Halia.

"Yes, sir. Officer Nolan may be new, and she may be a haole, but Captain Grover selected her to be part of our team. I put up with HPD talking trash about SWAT but sir, this was above and beyond trash talk," Halia said earnestly.

"I agree, Officer Halia, but why didn't you report it, instead of taking matters into your own hands?" Duke asked.

"She asked me not to, sir," Halia responded. "Said she could handle herself, that she'd heard worse in NYPD."

"So you thought you'd hand out a little private reprimand," Grover said. "Not a wise move, son."

"I know sir," Halia said.

"How do you feel about Officer Nolan being on SWAT?" Grover asked. "You can answer honestly."

"I wasn't sure at first," Halia said. "I mean, we liked her fine the day we met her at that hostage situation, but I wouldn't have thought she could really handle herself as a SWAT officer. She's awfully little. Then we saw her in action the day of the school shooting. Last week, she didn't complain about pulling the paperwork; she took directions and asked questions. She's good, sir, and . . . well, honestly, she's been through enough. I saw and heard enough of what that officer was saying in the elevator, when he was holding Williams. She doesn't deserve . . . if given the chance, she'll earn the respect of the team, but with idiots like this . . . "

"This idiot is suspended without pay for one week, pending a sexual harassment training course," Duke said, pointing to Wikola.

"And you will have a formal reprimand mentioned in your file, Halia," Grover said mildly.

"He attacked me," Wikola whined. "Both of your people attacked me today, and I'm the one suspended?"

"I saved your ass, brah, you should be thanking me," Halia snarled. "I shoulda just let her at you."

"Would you like to file a complaint?" Grover asked Wikola. "Let's see, you could file an assault complaint against the five foot one medical officer, first day back from medical leave, still with stitches. Or you could file a complaint against Halia, and explain what provoked the altercation between the two of you. Either way, gotta say, Officer Wikola, it doesn't reflect well on you. Might want to rethink that."

Wikola slumped in his chair in sullen silence.

"Officer Halia, I'd thank you to settle any future . . . disagreements with my officers through appropriate channels," Duke said. "Captain Grover, I apologize for the inconvenience and for the behavior of my officer."

"Likewise, Sergeant Lukela," Grover said, ushering Halia out of the office in front of him.

Grover sighed and headed once again for his vehicle. He aimed his SUV toward McGarrett's house.

()()()()()()()()

"I'm sure she's fine, Danny," Steve said, as Danny tried - and failed - to check his watch yet again without Steve noticing.

"How long can someone run, Steve?" Danny complained.

Steve shrugged. "Sometimes I run for an hour, hour and a half," he said. "You know, unless I'm training seriously for an op. Then it's much longer."

Danny windmilled his arms in disbelief. "You people are maniacs."

They were interrupted by Steve's doorbell.

"Who . . . " Steve wondered as he headed toward the front door. "Grover," he said, not entirely surprised to see the SWAT captain standing on his front porch. "Everything okay? Come on in."

"I came by to check on Officer Nolan," Grover said. Steve and Danny glanced at each other and then looked at him curiously. "From the way you're sitting here calmly I'm going to assume she didn't tell you what happened today."

"She indicated it had been a difficult day," Steve said, "but no, she didn't give any specifics."

"Then neither will I," Grover said. "Her privacy has been violated enough for one day. But I would like to check on her, see that she's okay. She around?"

Steve was staring wordlessly at Grover, trying to decide whether it would be appropriate to push for answers.

"She went for a run," Danny offered. "I'm starting to get worried but Rambo here . . . ah," he stopped, as his phone buzzed with a text message from Jax.

_Danno. I'm sort of lost._

"Everything okay?" Steve asked.

"She's managed to get lost; no surprise." He typed back to her.

_Where are you? I'll come._

_Um, corner of Nani and Ulani. WTF? These names all look alike._

_Calm down. Stay put._

Steve was grabbing for his keys.

"No, I'll go get her," Danny said.

Grover held up his hand to both of them. "Guys, actually, would you mind? I'd like to speak with her."

"Corner of Nani and Ulani," Danny said, nodding to Grover.

"You understand why it's hard to find the way around here, don't you, Jersey?" Grover complained. "Chicago and New York have much more sensible street names . . . hang tight, boys, I'll bring her back."

Steve rubbed his hand over his face. "Danny," he said slowly, "I get the distinct impression that there's someone that needs to have the shit beat out of them. And it's making me a little crazy that I don't know who it is."

()()()()()()()()

Jax groaned when Grover's SUV pulled up at the corner where she stood, panting, close to tears of frustration.

He pushed the button to lower the passenger window.

"These street names are impossible," he said kindly. "Hop in, Nolan."

She reluctantly opened the door and collapsed onto the seat and accepted the water bottle Grover held out to her. "How . . . not that I'm not grateful."

"I stopped by McGarrett's to check on you, after Sergeant Lukela and I handed out reprimands and suspensions to Halia and Wikola this afternoon. Seems Halia took issue with some comments Wikola made in your presence today," Grover said.

Jax fidgeted with the label on the water bottle. "I wish he had left it alone," she said. "I don't need anyone to fight my battles for me."

"Well, that's not how I expect my team to operate," said Grover. "I expect my team to go to bat for each other, and that's what Halia did."

"It's not a big deal," Jax said quietly.

"Your privacy was violated, and inappropriate speculation was made of your personal life. That's a big deal," Grover countered.

Jax covered her face with her hands. This was utter humiliation.

"I'll give you my resignation in the morning," she sighed, completely dejected. Maybe she could apply as a civilian paramedic.

"You'll - what the hell? Resignation? Are you crazy?" Grover said.

"I understand, my situation is an embarrassment to the department," Jax said, trying hard to keep her voice level.

"No, Officer Wikola is an embarrassment to the department," Grover said emphatically. "His actions today were completely out of line. Sergeant Lukela let him off too easy if you ask me. I'm inclined to agree with Halia - I think he should have let you beat the shit out of Wikola. For what it's worth, you already have a loyal teammate. You'll be alright, Nolan. Give it time. HPD is tough on outsiders, mainlanders. I'm still adjusting."

Jax nodded, not trusting herself to speak past the lump in her throat.

"What you decide to share with McGarrett and Williams is up to you; that's a personal decision. I don't think that Five-O needs to be officially informed of the day's events - though McGarrett is tenacious and nosey and could probably look it up or, you know, glare at some hapless desk officer and get him to spill the story," Grover said, as they pulled up in front of Steve's house. "Now, you good to be dropped off here, Nolan? I have a house, too, with a guest room. Offer is always open, just say the word."

"I'm good here, Captain," Jax said. "Thank you, sir, for everything." She hopped out of the SUV then turned back to him before she closed the door. "Will you be in the office tomorrow?"

"No," Grover said, "I have the weekend off. I understand you're on duty?"

"Yes, sir."

"You text my personal cell number if anything comes up," Grover said. "Or yell for Halia," he added, smiling.

Jax looked at the walkway to Steve's house and decided that she just couldn't bring herself to go face Steve and Danny, and their questions, and their sympathy. Instead, she walked around to the back of the house, and sank into one of the chairs by the water.

Danny and Steve watched, feeling a bit foolish, from inside the house.

"Okay, well, she's back safe," Steve said. "I take it she doesn't have a great sense of direction?"

"You didn't hear it from me, but no - horrible sense of direction. Even in New Jersey where the street names make do make more sense," Danny said, smiling in fond memory.

"She said if I stuck around, I'd find out that she was bad at things," Steve observed.

"You plan to stick around?" Danny said, looking at Steve intently.

"Hell yeah," Steve said without hesitation.

"Okay, well stick around in here for a minute, let me go assess the damage. If I don't make it back, tell Gracie that Danno loves her." Danny squared his shoulders, grabbed two Longboards, and headed out the back door.

"So," he said, sitting down next to Jax and handing her a beer. "How was your day?" he said, with mock cheerfulness.

Jax couldn't help but laugh. It came out slightly strangled and turned into a hiccoughing sob.

"Danny, my day was a clusterfuck, how was yours?" she said finally.

"You know, same old same old. Stood with Kono and watched Steve and Chin pull some super secret jungle march shit, scratched at my stitches which are driving me crazy, didn't have good pizza for lunch . . . typical day on this pineapple infested island. You wanna tell me what went down today?"

"Like you said, same old same old, Danny. No one likes the new guy, the outsider. Especially when the new guy is a girl," Jax sighed wearily.

"I'm sorry, kid. You ever think of, you know, going civilian?" Danny said, sympathetically rubbing her shoulder.

"I did today. Thought I would have to - I thought Grover would want my resignation. Damn it, Danny, people have to be tired of putting up with the shit that I bring into their lives," Jax said, standing up and pacing in frustration.

"Everyone has shit in their lives," Danny said. "Grover is no exception."

Jax handed Danny her bottle and peeled off her t-shirt, revealing one of the sporty swim wear options Malia had picked up for her.

"Whoa, what . . . " Danny sputtered.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Danny, it's swimwear. Not that you haven't seen me in my skivvies plenty of times, all those hospital visits," she groused, tossing the t-shirt on the chair and tackling the shorts. "Kono was right, this is the way to go. Ready to swim any minute."

Danny groaned. "Oh for the love of - of all the habits to pick up first, you pick up Steve and Kono's penchant for disrobing and diving in the water at the drop of a hat?"

Jax tossed the shorts on the chair with the t-shirt. "I've had a shitty day, Danny, and I want to swim." She didn't look back as she headed into the water, and dove under the surface.

Danny sighed. He heard movement behind him and turned to see Steve, in boardshorts, striding purposefully across the yard toward them.

"Oh, naturally," Danny said, "the shirtless wonder."

"Shut up Danny," Steve said, with absolutely no malice in his voice whatsoever. "Hey, can you go watch the GPS tracking?"

"Is it my turn?" Danny said. "Or are you just wanting to get rid of - you know what, never mind. I'm sure that this is one of those cases where I'm happier not knowing. Yes, I will go watch the GPS tracking. Don't let her drown. She's tired, overwhelmed, and she does have the better part of a beer in her."

"I've got it, Danno," Steve smiled, dropped a couple of towels on the chair, and followed Jax into the water.

()()()()()()()()

"I don't need a lifeguard," Jax said, coming up for air and floating on her back.

"You just ran over five miles," Steve said. "And you haven't eaten."

"I don't need a babysitter, either," she observed tiredly.

"I missed you today, and I want to be with you," Steve said, swimming closer to her.

Jax looked at him. "That works," she said, managing a smile.

Steve grinned when he realized that while he could stand easily, she was treading water now, unable to touch the bottom surface. "Need me to tow you to the shallows?" he teased.

"Jackass," she said, splashing him.

He stepped closer to her, until he could reach out and brush the water from her face.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Better now," she answered honestly. "It was a bad day."

"What can I do?"

"Please, not a damn thing," Jax said earnestly. "I mean it. You and Danny have to stay out of it. There's already enough . . . " she stopped.

Steve could guess. "My name came up?"

"Yours, Danny's, hell, I think maybe Chin's and Kono's. Apparently there's quite the kink-fest going on at Five-O," she replied wearily.

"We can put a stop to it, you know," Steve said.

"You can bully people into silence," she replied, flipping back over to float on her back. She was tiring rapidly. "But they'll still talk. It will blow over. It's not like this is the first time I've been through this. If you'd believed the rumors back in Jersey, Danny and Grace and I had quite the cozy threesome. I'm used to being the brunt of speculation . . . and without the fun of any of it being true."

Steve reached out and snagged her hand and pulled her close to him. He could tell she was reaching a point of exhaustion.

"Well, we have shared a bed," he teased gently. "Twice, in fact."

Jax traced her fingers delicately over his tattoos. "There is that . . . " she said, her hands drifting up to his shoulders and then around his neck. "For now," she added, her eyes twinkling. Her fingers threaded through his damp hair, and he knew from the way she kissed him that she was promising to make good on at least some of the speculation in the near future.

"God, you are a little bit evil, you know that?" he whispered, his voice ragged.

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder as he cradled her in his arms.

"You're shivering," he commented, pulling her closer.

"Water's a little cold," she said.

 _And that's a damn good thing,_ his brain remarked.

"You need food, and a good night's sleep," he said, carrying her easily toward the chairs. He wrapped a towel around her and steered her toward the house.

"Are you regretting this, Jax? Leaving New York, coming here?" Steve asked quietly, as they went into the house.

Danny smiled as they walked into the kitchen, and pulled a plate out of the microwave for Jax.

She smiled back at him, and squeezed Steve's hand.

"No regrets," she said. "Bring it on; I'm not going anywhere."


	23. Chapter 23

**Saturday**

Steve grabbed his phone as it buzzed next to his bed. He looked at the time before he swiped to take Chin's call. 4:00 am.

"Yeah, Chin," he said, instantly awake and grabbing for the laptop. Sure enough, the GPS tracker was blinking and moving steading. "I see it. Give me fifteen to get out of the house and I'll meet you at the palace."

He left the laptop open on the dresser of his bedroom and dashed through his usual three minute shower. Carrying his boots in one hand and the laptop in the other, he was heading down the stairs in under five minutes, trying to move quietly so as not to wake Danny and Jax.

He flipped on the coffee maker as Danny came into the kitchen.

"Sorry, Danny, didn't mean to wake you," he said. "We've got movement on the drugs, but we've got to wait until it stops before we even try to recon and come up with a plan."

Danny yawned. "No problem, as soon as Jax wakes up I'll drop her at HPD and come on in to work. I'll assume that if those drugs are moving, we're going to have a busy day. Look at you. You're smiling. You are seriously demented, you know that?"

"I'm just ready to get these drugs off the streets before anyone gets hurt, Danny," Steve protested, lacing up his boots.

"And you might get to use a flash grenade," Danny grumbled.

"That too," Steve said, grinning.

Jax wandered into the kitchen, her red curls in glorious disarray, Steve's Annapolis t-shirt hanging askew off one shoulder.

Steve's brain once again flitted through several options and landed on _damn._

"Coffee?" Jax mumbled.

"Babe," Danny said, smiling fondly at his half-asleep former rookie. "It's too early, go back to sleep."

Jax moved on autopilot toward the coffee maker. "You're up," she observed, "so we must have a case. You want me to pick up Grace?"

Steve glanced at Danny, concerned.

"Jax, babe, why would I want you to pick up Grace?" Danny asked.

"Duh, your partner?" Jax said, trying to aim the coffee into the mug, and mostly managing.

Danny quickly went to Jax and guided her hand to put the carafe back on the hotplate. He let her take a sip of her coffee, and then gently tilted her head to be sure she made eye contact with him.

"Jax, babe, look at me," he said. "Hey, there - good morning. Okay, do you know where you are?"

She looked around, confused. "I'm in your kitchen - no. Wait. Steve's kitchen." Her eyes widened in realization.

"Shit," she said.

"It's okay," Danny assured her. "You were half-asleep. This happen a lot, though, waking up confused?"

Jax shrugged. "I don't know. There's not been anyone around when I wake up, to tell me."

Steve knew, he _knew_ , that the admission shouldn't make him a little pleased, but it did anyway. He quickly set that line of thinking aside and focused on the situation at hand, stepping in front of Jax and tilting her head to make eye contact.

"Oh, hi," she said, smiling up at him, as if she was just now noticing that he was in the kitchen.

"Hi," he said, grabbing his keys and thumbing on the small penlight attached. He briefly shone the light in each of her eyes, looking carefully to see how her pupils reacted.

She scowled at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "What are you doing?" she grumbled.

"You tell me. You should know what I'm doing," he replied, keeping his voice level and calm despite rising concern.

She took another sip of coffee. "Checking for pupil reaction," she said. "Post-concussion syndrome."

Steve exhaled in relief. Good.

"Well?" she said.

"Pupils are reactive but this one is a tiny bit slower," he said, reaching up and gently touching the stitches over her eye. "Just . . . be mindful of symptoms. Get Malia to check you out when you get a chance, yeah? I've gotta go in; drugs are moving. Danny will drop you off on his way."

Steve wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, one hand curling around the scar on her hip, the other brushing gently over the stitches over her eye again. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of gunpowder and honeysuckle.

"Hey," he whispered, "don't worry about it, okay? I'm sure you're fine. Just get Malia to check it out when you're not half asleep and exhausted, right?"

She nodded against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Got it. Go save the world, sailor."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," he grinned, looking after her fondly as she stumbled back toward the guest bathroom, her coffee cup still firmly in her hand.

Danny cleared his throat. He was reasonably sure both of them had completely forgotten his presence.

"Post concussion syndrome?" he asked Steve worriedly.

"Lingering concussion symptoms, usually from getting too many concussions too close together," Steve explained. "It's a danger among football players and, well, people who get hit on the head. Alot. Like, um, Jax. And me. Her pupils were a little uneven." He held up his hand as Danny started to panic. "Danny. She'll be fine. I'm out of here - see you later, okay?"

()()()()()()()()

"So, how are we gonna play this, rookie?" Danny asked, as they neared the HPD parking lot. "You want me to drop you at the corner, like a teenager embarrassed by her dad, or walk into the department with you and beat the crap out of someone?"

Jax laughed. "I've got this Danny. Just pull into the parking lot and let me out. You think this is the first time I've been hassled at work?"

"I know it isn't, and I hate it, Jax," Danny said vehemently, pulling into a parking space a reasonable distance from the door.

Jax smiled as she noticed Officer Halia waving at her.

"It's going to be okay, Danny," she said firmly, as she closed the car door and jogged to catch up to Halia. When she wasn't looking, Halia turned and made eye contact with Danny. He nodded once, then turned his attention back to Jax.

Danny felt infinitely better about life as he headed toward Five-O.

()()()()()()()()

Steve and Chin were pulling up maps and charts on the plasma screen by the time Danny and Kono arrived.

"What do we have?" Kono asked, as she and Danny exited the elevator and joined them at the center table.

"We've come full circle," Chin said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Pier 16?" Kono asked, incredulous. "Well, that means that our 'helpful' harbor master . . . "

"Was quite possibly setting Steve up for the ambush when Miranda took Jax back to Pier 15," Chin finished.

"Yeah, he wasn't counting on Hawkeye, here," Danny said, smiling at Kono. "I just love it when criminals underestimate our girls."

"Girls?" Kono said, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Badass and beautiful officers?" Danny tried again.

"Better," Kono said, winking at him.

"So, do we bring him in?" Chin asked.

"No, we take him down," Steve said. "We take them all down, at once. It's the only way to contain the entire group and try to get at the real leaders of the operation."

"We're going to assume that whoever is controlling the drugs at this point is attempting to move them off the island," Chin continued.

"They know we've been able to link the drugs given out at Sandy's as the drugs involved in this tug of war between the Yakuza and MS-13. Now, the drugs have become more of a liability than an asset. My guess is that if the Yakuza is in possession, they're trying to get them back to Japan or Korea; if it's MS-13, they'll be trying to offload them back to El Salvador or possibly Los Angeles. Either way, you can be sure there's no official documentation for us to track. This is all going to be off-the-record."

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Danny said.

"We're going to assume that the shipment will be heavily guarded. We'll coordinate with HPD and SWAT and launch a full-scale raid. The only hope we have of doing more than making a mess and confiscating some drugs is coming at them hard and fast, with the element of surprise. I've got Grover and Duke putting units together. We'll gear up, then go over to HPD to brief and move out from there."

()()()()()()()()

"We have assembled here on this, what was supposed to be my God-given weekend off, to work together with Five-O and take down a major stash of cocaine and ketamine, and if we pull it off, take down some major players in either the Yakuza, MS-13, or both," Grover announced to the group of HPD and SWAT officers gathered in the briefing room.

Steve, Danny, Chin, and Kono were already in full tactical gear, standing at the back of the room. Jax was very carefully avoiding eye contact with them, because Wikola had already caused her enough grief and also, because . . . well. Thigh holsters apparently really did it for her, at least where Steve was concerned.

 _Be a professional,_ she told herself firmly.

Steve couldn't help himself; he scanned the room, trying to figure out who Grover and Duke had been dealing with the night before. There was a burly medic officer standing right next to Jax. He had nodded briefly at Danny when they entered the room. Steve read his name tag - Technical Officer Halia - and his body language; he was positioning himself between Jax and HPD, not between Jax and Five-O. Ally, then. Good. Steve continued to scan the room, his eye catching on two HPD officers. Their eyes kept flickering between Halia and Jax and Five-O. Steve stared at them until they made eye contact, at which point they quickly averted their gaze. Bingo. Maybe not the primary jackass, then, because Grover indicated that stronger action had been taken, but they were involved somehow. Danny nodded imperceptibly; he'd of course observed the entire exchange. Steve was reminded once again of what a gifted detective Danny really was.

Sergeant Lukela was reading off duty roster assignments. "Let me emphasize," he said. "HPD is serving today in support of the Five-O and SWAT raid. I expect my officers to conduct themselves with professionalism. Are we clear?" he finished, looking square at the two squirrely officers caught in Steve and Danny's crosshairs. "Commander McGarrett, we're ready for instructions."

Steve came to the front of the room and laid out the operation with the calm authority that had distinguished his career. It wasn't at all difficult to envision him in full battle rattle half-way across the world, commanding a SEAL team. The officers listened with respectful attention, as Steve clearly and concisely described the plan that, with any luck, would take down one of the biggest drug shipments in the history of HPD.

()()()()()()()()

The operation was going off without a hitch, until the moment when it went to hell.

Steve and Chin had approached first, with their usual stealth, and had made their way undetected to Pier 16. They quickly surveyed the scene and then took cover behind a stack of pallets, at the very edge of the pier. Their radio transmission back to Danny, Kono, Grover, and Lukela had confirmed what had been hoped: the warehouse at Pier 16, officially shut down and out of use, was bustling with what appeared to be over a dozen Yakuza. They had a shot at not only capturing the drugs, but the people who planned to distribute them.

Danny and Lukela, along with two other HPD officers, were quietly approaching the harbor master's office. It had been determined that they would take him into custody first, and sort out his potential involvement later.

As planned, HPD and SWAT moved in at once, swarming the pier and the warehouse. The one road leading away from the pier was blocked with three HPD units, with two medic units immediately in front of them. While the goal was to minimize injuries and avoid casualties, they didn't expect a million dollars worth of drugs to be given up without a fight. An HPD chopper was standing by on Sand Island, seconds away.

The minute police presence was noticed, windows were broken and shots were fired from inside the warehouse. The officers quickly and efficiently took cover and returned fire.

Grover checked to be sure Kono was right behind him as he took cover behind an armored truck and called out on the loudspeaker.

"You are outnumbered and outgunned. Put the weapons down and come out with your hands up."

If anything, the ferocity of the shooting increased.

"They don't want to play nice," Steve said, grinning at Chin and returning fire.

It appeared that HPD and SWAT had the upper hand as Danny and Lukela reached the harbor master's office.

"Five-O!" Danny shouted, kicking in the door as Lukela and the other officers covered him. Danny threw himself to the ground as an explosion sent fire and debris flying over his head. Shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears, he checked on the others.

One officer had several shards of debris lodged in his shoulder, but waved the others on.

"I'm okay, move in," he said urgently.

They cleared the harbor master's office and looked out the window, only to discover that over a dozen more armed men were pouring out of the ground floor level, moving at top speed toward the warehouse.

"Steve," Danny yelled into the radio. "You've got over a dozen more coming your way, fast and hard. They're going to flank our guys."

"Grover?" Steve said, wanting to confirm that Grover had heard Danny's urgent transmission.

"I've got it," Grover said, and picked up the HPD and SWAT frequency radio. "All units, move forward toward the pier. Defensive and medic units, lock and load and move in for cover fire. We're being flanked by a secondary group."

As Jax and Halia hefted their medic packs on their backs and moved forward with the other units as instructed, absolute chaos was breaking loose. Shots were still coming from inside the warehouse, but now they were coming from the men pouring out of the harbor master's building as well. HPD and SWAT, at one moment having the upper hand, were now essentially pinned down between shooters in the warehouse and shooters moving toward them.

The second group of HPD and SWAT moved quickly into position, evening the odds, as the second group of Yakuza was far more exposed than those in the warehouse. Jax caught sight of Steve and Chin and instinctively headed in that direction, Halia moving with her.

"Shit, Chin," Steve said, "we've got to get better cover, we're exposed."

He ducked as a volley of bullets splintered the pallets. When he came back up, he processed two pieces of information simultaneously: Jax and Halia had taken out the immediate threat . . . and Chin was nowhere to be seen.

"Chin?" he called out, glancing around frantically.

Jax was running toward him at top speed, Halia sidestepping behind her and providing cover fire.

"He went over, Steve," Jax yelled, pointing behind him. "He got hit and went over."

She skidded to a stop as another volley of bullets came their way, and ducked behind the rapidly splintering pallets, which soon would provide no cover at all.

"Where?" Steve yelled, peeling off his kevlar and handing off his firearm to Jax.

"Your two o'clock," she shouted, popping off several rounds back toward another group of approaching Yakuza, smiling in grim satisfaction as one of them fell. Another staccato round of gunfire from SWAT took care of the rest.

Jax started to peel off her kevlar as well.

"No," Steve said, "Need you here. Have oxygen ready. And get ready to empty your pockets."

Danny and Kono caught up to them just as Steve dove off the edge of the pier.

"Is he crazy?!" Danny shouted. "Isn't there a sunken ship right there?"

"Chin," Jax said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "Chin got hit and went over."

Kono had her vest off in a flash and pressed her gun into Danny's hand. She was in the water before the others even knew what she was planning to do.

Behind them, HPD and SWAT had finally subdued the shooters and were busy rounding them up in handcuffs.

Jax looked at Halia. "Oxygen. We need to get the oxygen ready."

"On it," Halia said, grabbing his radio. "Bring the bus up to the edge of the pier. We have someone hit and in the water. Have three sets of O2 ready."

Danny and Jax had run to the edge of the pier and were looking anxiously over the side.

"Okay," Halia said, joining them. "Bus is moving up here. What did McGarrett mean, empty your pockets?"

Jax looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion. She couldn't think clearly over her rising panic.

"Nolan, focus," Halia said sharply. "McGarrett. He said something about your pockets; what does he want you to have ready?"

She snapped back into attention. "I carry stuff that isn't protocol, and he knows it. Quikclot, among other things."

"Okay, get ready for when they bring him back up," Halia said, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. He wasn't born yesterday. Wikola's insinuations may have been completely inappropriate, but any fool could see that there was a connection between the Five-O task leader and this unlikely SWAT officer. "They'll bring him back up, Jax," he added gently.

Grover had made his way to Danny's side. "Anything, Williams?"

"No, God, no, I don't see . . . " Danny put his hands on his head in despair. This could not be happening, he could not be losing his team right before his eyes.

"There!" Jax shouted, pointing in the water.

They saw Kono first, breaking the surface and gasping for air, clutching Chin under his arm and across his chest. Steve's head broke the surface seconds later; he was treading water furiously with one hand, and the other hand seemed to be putting pressure on Chin's leg.

Grover, Danny, Halia, and Jax flattened themselves on the pier and reached for Chin as Kono and Steve lifted him from the water.

"On three," Steve yelled, "and try not to twist his leg."

For one horrifying moment it seemed as though their efforts were going to fail, and Chin was going to fall back into the water, but then suddenly, miraculously, he was on the edge, and eight hands rolled him gently onto his back.

"Weak pulse, no breath sounds. I've got airway," Halia said to Jax, "take the leg."

As Halia started CPR, Jax ripped the fabric of Chin's pants away from the gaping wound on his thigh.

Danny and Grover hauled Steve and Kono, dripping and shaking, out of the water. Two more medics rushed to check them out. Steve waved them off of himself, but pointed to the open scrapes on Kono's cheek and arm. "Get that disinfected ASAP," he said, "and give her some oxygen. Don't argue," he added gently to Kono. "And don't try to take her away from here," he warned the medic. "That's her cousin."

"I've got her," Danny said, steadying Kono as the medic seated her on the step of the bus and placed an oxygen cannula in her nose. "You did good, kid," Danny said, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. 'He'll be okay."

Steve dropped to his knees next to Jax. Her hands were already slippery with Chin's blood.

"Pressure, here," she instructed, opening several packets of Quikclot. When she was ready, she nodded to Steve and he slipped his hands just far enough out of the way for her to wedge the treated bandages in the wound.

"It could be arterial, I can't tell with all the water," Jax said, shaking her head. "The QuikClot won't hold long enough, won't last long enough if it is."

Steve looked up at Grover, who was already on the radio. "Get the chopper to the pier," he said. "Okay, people," Grover shouted, "clear a space for the chopper to land, right there, Pier 15. Get that junk moved." A flurry of activity had a space cleared in seconds.

The fourth medic appeared with a simple backboard, just as Halia looked up in relief.

"I've got breath sounds. Get me the O2." Halia fitted Chin with oxygen and then helped Steve and the medic slide him onto the backboard, while Jax kept pressure on the wound. They ducked instinctively as the rotor wash blew over them.

"Stay with Kono," Steve yelled to Danny, "and call Malia. We're going to Tripler. Meet us there."

"Okay, on three," Halia counted, and they lifted Chin and ran to the chopper. By the time it lifted off, Halia had wrapped a BP cuff around Chin's bicep, and tossed an IV and a bottle of rubbing alcohol to Steve.

"I'm assuming you can handle that, Commander," he said, as he monitored Chin's oxygen and blood pressure.

"Got it," Steve said, as he hastily poured some alcohol over his hands and in the crook of Chin's arm. He slipped the needle into the vein and held the IV bag up, squeezing it gently to speed the infusion of fluid. Jax would have been terribly impressed, had she not been completely focused on trying to slow the bleeding.

"How far out?" Steve shouted to the pilot.

"We'll be on the landing pad in five," the pilot called back.

Steve looked at Jax, then down at her leanly muscled forearms, shaking with the strain of applying pressure.

"Halia, can you hold the bag?" she asked, nodding at the IV bag.

"Got it," he said, taking over from Steve. "How's the bleeding?"

"Too much, too fast," Jax said, motioning for Steve. "Take over pressure."

Steve grabbed a handful of gauze and pressed hard with the heel of his hand against the wound. He could feel the warmth of blood seeping through despite the considerable force. Jax willed her hands steady enough to reach into one of her pockets and pull out a six inch Israeli bandage. Steve nodded in approval as she expertly slipped the bandage underneath Chin's leg and pulled the ends up close to Steve's hands.

"Ready," she said, and as Steve moved his hand, she fastened the bandage in place and carefully but quickly tightened it.

Chin groaned in pain as the bandage applied exponentially more pressure than even Steve's strong arms.

"Hang in there, Chin," Steve said, grabbing Chin's hand. "Hold on, we're almost to the hospital."

Jax was searching for a pulse at Chin's ankle, and nodded in satisfaction when she found it.

"How's the BP?" she asked Halia.

"Low but stable," he answered. "SATs are ok, breath sounds are still good."

"One minute out," the pilot called. "I've radioed ahead, a trauma surgery team is standing by on the heli-pad."

Steve nodded his approval. "Good job, thank you, officer."

()()()()()()()()

The trauma team had whisked Chin off to surgery before Steve and Jax could even get out of the helicopter.

"Captain Grover sends instructions for you to stay here," Officer Halia said to Jax. "You're to stay with Chin's family as long as needed. I'm heading back to wrap up."

The chopper lifted away, leaving Steve and Jax on the hospital roof in sudden, unnerving quiet.

Jax clenched her hands into fists to try to stop the shaking. She closed her eyes against the sight of Chin's blood, which covered her hands and much of her clothing, and tried to fight off a wave of nausea.

She lost the fight, and took two stumbling steps away from Steve, fell to her knees, and retched violently.

"I've got you," he murmured, holding her forehead with one hand and her shoulder with the other. A water bottle miraculously appeared out of one of his cargo pockets, and she gratefully rinsed her mouth out and then drank a few swallows to ease her raw throat.

"Sorry," she rasped, her voice sounding much like it had the first day she'd arrived on the island. "We've got to find Danny, and Kono. And oh my God, Malia . . . "

"Okay, but we're not going to find Malia with you covered in Chin's blood," Steve said grimly. "She doesn't need to see that. They'll have her in surgery waiting, and Kono will be in the ER . . . " he grabbed his phone and shot off a text to Danny.

_Where is Malia? Have to get clean scrubs before we see her._

Jax nodded, the movement provoking another wave of nausea. "Damn it," she muttered, as she closed her eyes and rested her hands on her knees, aborting her effort to stand up.

Steve was grabbing for his penlight again, and Jax irritably batted his hand away.

"Just get me on my feet," she insisted, holding up a shaking hand.

He gripped her hand, still slick with Chin's blood, and hauled her easily to her feet. Before she could turn away, he gently grasped her jaw and flashed the light in her eyes.

"Doesn't look any worse," he said, "which is good, but why are you so . . ." He broke off and put a hand to her waist to steady her as she swayed dangerously again.

"Shit," she hissed, flinching away from his hand in pain. "What the hell?"

Steve pulled his hand away from her, and realized it was covered in blood; fresh, warm blood. Hers.

He looked down, horrified to see a massive splinter of wood embedded in her side, just under the edge of her vest. His hands frantically pulled at the velcro straps, desperate to get to the injury.

"Why are we wasting time up here," Jax protested, trying to grab his hands.

"Ku'uipo, hold still, how on earth, how did you not know . . . " He finally - finally - released the vest and pulled it away gently.

"Oh," she said, her eyes widening at the sight of what apparently was a piece of pallet stuck in her side. "Honestly? I thought I caught a graze."

"Don't touch it," Steve scolded, as her curious fingers started poking at the wood. If he hadn't already suspected that she was going into shock, the detached way in which she calmly examined the wound confirmed it. He wiped his hand hastily on his shirt as his phone pinged with a return text from Danny.

_With Malia / Chin 4th fl trauma surg. Kono in ER IV antibiotics; made me go with Malia._

"What, what does he know?" Jax demanded, as Steve typed a hasty reply.

_1st stop ER for us then find you._

Danny's reply came back immediately.

_ER? You two hurt?_

There was no way Steve was going to add to Danny and Malia's stress.

_Check Kono, clean scrubs. See soon._

"Okay, let's go get you fixed up," he said, as Jax nodded in agreement. He was alarmed; it wasn't remotely like her to be compliant. She started walking toward the stairs, and he gently steered her to the elevator bay instead.

"That's supposed to be for surgeons and emergencies," she observed.

"Pretty sure this qualifies," he replied. "Do you really want to try walking down all of those flights of stairs?"

"I want to get to Chin," she said stubbornly, "and the ER will give me clean scrubs so I don't freak out Malia."

"Okay, whatever you say," he said, wondering if she'd be off her feet before or after the elevator arrived.

In what he was sure was a purely New Jersey streak of stubbornness, she managed to stay upright long enough to get on the elevator, but the movement of the car robbed her of what little was left of her balance. She pitched forward and he caught her easily.

"I've got you, ku'uipo," he said, picking her up gently and trying not to further move the shard in her side. He shifted as something pulled uncomfortably near his shoulder blade. "Hold on."

She did, literally, and wrapped one arm behind his neck and shoulder. He winced again and she pulled her hand away.

"You're hit, you idiot," she said, looking at her hand in disbelief, and trying to pull herself up to look over his shoulder at the damage.

"Hold still," Steve demanded, "you're tearing your . . . hold still."

"Steve, you're bleeding," she repeated, holding her hand up to him in evidence.

"Oh," he said, frowning at her. "I don't think I got hit . . . " Comprehension dawned. "Cut. I got cut on the wreckage. Shit."

The elevator jerked to a halt at the ground floor and Steve exited.

"Little help, please," he yelled in the general direction of the nurses' station.

Kono had just badgered the beleaguered resident into removing her IV when she heard the commotion coming from the elevator bay at the end of the hall. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and swiftly made her way in that direction. She grinned as she realized that thanks to the scrubs she'd been given in exchange for her soaking wet clothes, no one was trying to stop her.

She took off at a full run when she heard Steve shouting for help.

"Kono," he said, relief at seeing a familiar face evident in his voice, as she rounded the corner and reached him just as an orderly appeared with a gurney.

"Sir, you need to step back and let us work," the orderly said, helping Steve settled Jax onto the gurney and pushing it toward an empty treatment room. Steve felt himself being shoved aside as a flurry of scrub-clad personnel surrounded Jax.

"Get an IV started," the resident in charge instructed, "and get portable x-ray in here so we can see what we're working with."

"Steve," Kono said, her hand on his arm, "what happened?"

"We took cover behind a stack of pallets," he said. "A fragment must have . . . we were so focused on Chin, I had no idea . . . " He stopped and checked Kono over for injuries. "Why were you getting an IV? Did you get hit? Are you okay? What's the word on Chin? Where's Danny?"

His mind was racing. Too many . . . there were too many of his people injured, and he couldn't see all of them, couldn't get to them. He needed to have them in his sights.

"Brah, take a breath," Kono said, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I'm fine. That harbor is toxic and I had those scrapes from surfing at Sandy's, remember? IV antibiotic; just a precaution. Danny went up to wait with Malia. Stay here with Jax, okay, and let me go check on Chin. Malia doesn't need to see you and Jax until you get sorted; you'll scare the shit out of her."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Go, go check on Chin."

Kono turned him around to point him toward Jax, and caught sight of the deep gash across his shoulder blade.

"Shit, Steve," she exclaimed, "did you get hit?"

He shook his head and brushed her off. "Cut, I think, on the wreckage when we went in after Chin."

"Steve, that's going to have to be stitched and you're going to need serious antibiotics," Kono urged.

"Okay, but Kono," he pleaded, "Go; go see about Chin."

She nodded and turned to leave. On her way, she stopped at the nurses' station.

"I'm going up to check on our other teammate," she explained to the nurse. She gestured toward Steve, who, along with the rest of Five-O, was recognized in every emergency room on the island. "Commander McGarrett is here with an HPD SWAT officer who is also injured. He's not going to leave her side, I'll warn you, but he has a deep laceration across his left shoulder blade, from diving in Honolulu Harbor. Someone is going to have to convince him to get stitched up and he's going to need antibiotics. And please, get them some scrubs because they're going to want to go up to surgical just as soon as they can."

The nurse nodded quickly. "I've got it, Officer Kalakaua. Go, take care of the rest of your team, I'll make sure these two are taken care of."

()()()()()()()()

Kono paused and took a deep breath as she got off the elevator. The fourth floor was hushed; the space reserved for serious trauma surgery patients. Kono had always found the quiet of these floors more unnerving than the chaos of the emergency rooms. Here, there was time to think, time to let it sink in, just how seriously someone was injured. She squared her shoulders and walked quietly toward the door marked "Family Waiting".

She knocked softly and opened the door.

Malia looked deceptively calm, sitting quietly next to Danny and holding his hand. Kono sternly commanded herself to hold it together, for goodness sake; if Malia could hold it together then she could, right?

Apparently not.

She wasn't sure what tipped her over the edge - Malia's gentle smile or Danny's kind blue eyes - but despite her best efforts a sob ripped out of her throat.

"Is there any word?" she choked out, as Danny stood and wrapped his arms around her, leading her gently to sit next to Malia.

"The surgeon has already sent word out," Malia said, putting her arm around Kono's shoulders. "The bullet nicked his femoral artery, so he lost a lot of blood. They have a vascular surgeon repairing the damage."

Kono nodded. "So he's going to be okay?"

Malia hesitated.

"Malia?!" Kono said, frantic.

"He's lost a lot of blood, Kono. We're hoping he'll be fine," Danny said gently.

"Jax and Steve did an amazing job," Malia said, squeezing Kono's shoulders. "Where are they? I know Steve must be frantic with worry."

"They're getting dry clothes," Kono hedged, "and Steve is going to need antibiotics, after diving in the harbor."

Kono hugged Malia to her. "Chin is going to be fine, Malia, he's a fighter."

Danny was looking skeptically at Kono. Steve had mentioned a first stop in the ER, and since when did it take more than five minutes to bully an orderly into a set of clean scrubs? He was starting to get a bad feeling about his two trouble-prone friends.

"Ah, Kono?" Danny said quietly, catching her eye over Malia's head. "How about I go check in with Steve, and find you and Malia some good coffee? You'll text me if the surgeon comes back out?"

Kono nodded vigorously in the affirmative. "Yeah, Danny, that would be a good idea. Steve will want an update on Chin while he gets those antibiotics," she said pointedly.

Danny read between the lines: his job would be to harass Steve into getting treated, which Jax should have been able to handle, unless . . . his eyes widened in alarm.

"Both of them?" he mouthed silently to Kono, not wanting to alert Malia to the fact that more of the team was injured.

Kono nodded slightly.

Danny bent and kissed Malia gently on the cheek. "I'll be back, sweetheart; let me go update Steve before he has a stroke. I'll be back."

()()()()()()()()

Danny walked calmly and quietly as far as the elevator, and then gave himself a few moments to panic while he rode the three floors down to the ground level.

Exiting the elevator bay, he made a beeline for the nurse's station.

"I'm here for -"

"Detective Williams," the nurse said. Of course, she recognized him, too. "You're here for Commander McGarrett and the SWAT officer. Come with me, please."

She stood and led Danny to a treatment room, pausing outside the closed door which did little to muffle Steve's exasperated objections to the poor nurse trying to clean and treat his wound.

"I'm fine, tell me what's going on with her. What is in that IV?" Steve barked out.

Danny took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. This was not going to end well if he didn't calm Steve down. He pushed the door open and went in.

"Danny," Steve demanded, "what's going on with Chin? How is he? What did the surgeon say?"

Danny planted himself firmly in front of Steve, ensuring eye contact.

"They've stopped the bleeding; there is a vascular surgeon repairing the damage. Kono is with Malia. Breathe, Steven. Now, what's going on here? Why are you hyperventilating and yelling at these poor nurses?" Danny said, his voice calm and firm. Steve could handle his own life threatening situations with ease, but he did not do well when his team was injured.

"Jax took a shard from that stack of pallets in her side, Danny, and she was bleeding the whole time . . . there was so much blood, I thought it was all Chin's. She thought she'd caught a graze but she didn't mention it. They won't let me get . . ." he swatted absently at the nurse trying to examine the cut on his shoulder.

"Okay, babe, if you haven't noticed, you're bleeding all over the place," Danny said. "Sit. Behave. Let the nurse look at you. I'll step over here and check on Jax, okay?"

Steve grunted a half-hearted assent, but at least stilled enough to let the nurse help him pull his shirt off. She began gently cleaning the wound, and Steve half listened to her soothing voice, and half listened for Danny murmuring quiet words of assurance to Jax, who had weakly demanded an update on Chin the minute she recognized Danny.

"You're going to need stitches, of course," the nurse was saying, "and IV antibiotics. Officer Kalakaua explained you got this diving in the harbor. Your officer is being taken care of; the IV is saline to replace some of the blood volume she's lost while we type and cross for a match. We're waiting on the x-ray to come back so we know how deep that fragment is and whether we can take care of it here, or if we'll need to send her to surgery. We've given her a shot for the pain, so she's groggy but responsive."

Steve ducked his head. He realized he had been a complete ass to the nurse.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry, I just - "

"Commander McGarrett," she said kindly, "it's quite alright. I know you're beside yourself with worry about your team. We're doing the best we can, and we'll keep you informed as we get information, okay? Your team is counting on you to be taken care of, too, you know."

The nurse finished cleaning the wound and covered it lightly with gauze. "I'm going to go see if we can expedite your stitches and IV," she said, "so that you can get upstairs to be with Lieutenant Kelly. Now, you can quietly go over and check on Officer Nolan, if you promise not to terrorize my new nurse," she added, smiling and patting Steve on the shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am," he said politely.

She smiled. Tripler was an Army medical facility; she was used to his kind. All muscle and Kevlar and armed to the hilt, but really just big teddy bears, most of them. And terribly vulnerable when it came right down to it.

Steve moved stiffly the few steps across the room. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was starting to feel the effects of the frantic activity, followed by a lung-searing dive, and compounded by the pain he could no longer ignore.

The nurses had stepped away, waiting for further instructions from the doctor before continuing to treat Jax. Steve could hold his own with the most hard-core military medics - it was part of his SEAL training, after all - but dealing with injuries in the field was different. It was all noise, and smoke, and adrenaline, with no time to think.

Thinking about this was going to make him a little sick, he thought.

The nurses had cut away Jax's t-shirt, and the wicked looking segment of the wooden pallet was still visible, despite the area being packed with gauze to try to slow the bleeding. The faintest remnant of bruises from New York still lingered across her torso. Danny was holding her hand and gently stroking the scar on her side from 9/11, barely visible at the edge of the gauze packing. The wood was wedged squarely between the already existing scars.

"She survived rebar falling from the Twin Towers, Steve, she's not going to let a splinter get to her," Danny assured him. Jax nodded in a groggy attempt at agreement.

"Danny, I should have realized . . ." Steve trailed off uncertainly. Jax had momentarily lost her battle against the effects of the pain medication, and her eyes had closed, her long lashes dark against her pale skin.

"Steven McGarrett, stop right there," Danny said. "I doubt Jax even realized what had happened. We were all focusing on Chin. You and Kono . . . how you managed to find him, in that water, and pull him up - I don't know, Steve, but those were some of the longest minutes of my life."

"If Jax hadn't seen him go in . . . " Steve swallowed hard against a sudden rush of bile.

"Hey, partner, hold on," Danny said, coming around the side of the gurney and grabbing a chair. He shoved it into the back of Steve's knees, forcing him to sit down. "Kono and I are going to have our hands full enough, don't go taking a header onto this floor, okay? Here, hang onto Jax; I'm going to go see if we're any closer to getting a doctor in here for the two of you." Steve took Jax's hand into his and rubbed it gently. Her hands were still smeared with Chin's blood; for that matter, most of her was smeared and spattered with Chin's blood, her blood, his own blood . . . he'd been in firefights in Afghanistan that had been less bloody, and he fought back a wave of nausea at the thought.

Just as Danny reached the door, a doctor and resident came through.

"I apologize for the delay, Commander McGarrett, but I was informed that I may as well get an update on Lieutenant Kelly before I came in. The vascular surgeon is satisfied that he's managed a complete repair of the nicked artery, as well as a smaller vein. The other surgeons are working on a detailed, careful reconstruction and repair of all of the muscle and ligaments. There will be some scarring, obviously, but there's absolutely no reason to expect anything other than a full recovery," the doctor said, looking kindly at Steve and Danny. "By the way, from what the surgeons say, her . . . shall we say, 'unorthodox' . . . treatment choice probably saved his life. The damage was repairable, but the blood loss could have been catastrophic."

"Thank God," Steve breathed in relief, rubbing his hand over his eyes. Danny squeezed his uninjured shoulder.

"Now, as to Officer Nolan, here," the doctor continued. "X-ray shows that the debris is relatively shallow. The extensive bleeding came about because of her movement after the fact; essentially, with every motion, the wood continued to tear . . . " The doctor stopped short as Steve and Danny both looked at him in horror. "You know what, I think you can understand how the injury came about. Thankfully, we will be able to safely remove the foreign object right here in the ER, and after a round of IV antibiotics, she should be good to go. I just can't imagine . . . this young woman must either have an incredibly high tolerance for pain, or she must have been completely fixated on taking care of Lieutenant Kelly."

"Both," Steve answered simply.

"Okay, Commander McGarrett, if you'll step back over here, we'll get you stitched up and get your IV started while we work on Officer Nolan," the doctor said, obviously feeling like he had the situation well under control.

"No," Steve replied, as if the doctor had asked if he would like to forgo the wearing of cargo pants.

"Excuse me?" the doctor said, looking at Danny in confusion.

"Ah, Steve," Danny tried, "can you, maybe, step over there for them to fix you up?"

Jax rallied a bit against the pain medication and squeezed Steve's hand.

"Steve?" she mumbled, trying to focus on him. "Chin?"

"He's okay," Steve reminded her. "Doc just gave a good report. You did good, Jax."

"You got hit?" she frowned, trying to remember.

"No. Cut, diving," Steve said. "I'm okay, too. Everyone's okay, ku'uipo, but you've got to let the doctor take care of that shrapnel in you, alright? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He looked up at the doctor in defiance.

"Fix her first," he said, in his no-nonsense, back in charge, full-on SEAL voice.

The doctor started to protest. "To allow you to be present during her treatment -"

Danny interrupted him with an upheld hand. "Is probably something that someone listed as her next-of-kin would have to authorize. And that would be me. For that matter, I am also his next of kin," he added, jerking his thumb at Steve, "God help me, and I'm telling you right now - you may as well figure out a way to either treat them both at the same time, or do as he says and take care of her first. Because he's not leaving her right now, and I have the authority to say that's okay."

Steve smiled at Danny and then back up at the doctor, who threw his arms up in surrender.

"Okay, then, Commander, but I'm letting the resident stitch you up," he warned.

Steve shrugged as the resident looked on in sheer terror.

"Danny," Steve said, "please, go check on Kono and Malia. I'm sure they're worried by now, and they need to just focus on Chin. I'll be up as soon as I can, okay?"

Danny nodded, and bent and kissed Jax on the forehead.

"Be careful, Danno," she mumbled.

"I'm just going upstairs, sweetie," Danny said, amused.

"'s'long way," she muttered. "Lo's could happ'n. Elevator . . . you know." She blinked at him owlishly.

"Only to you and Steve," Danny said. "Trouble magnets, the both of you. Behave."

()()()()()()()()

"Danny," Kono said launching herself at him when he returned to the waiting room. He caught her easily; for all her gangly height, she was still delicate compared to his solid frame, and she let him wrap her in one of his unique bear hugs.

"Hey, babe," he said, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Where's Malia? Everything okay?"

"They let her go back to recovery," Kono said. "What's going on with Steve and Jax? Are they okay? Danny, she looked completely axed. What happened?"

"She caught a chunk of that pallet in her side, but it's shallow. Steve is sitting next to her like a big overgrown terrier, barring his little sharp teeth at anyone who tries to separate them," Danny said, leading Kono back to a chair.

in spite of her distress, she giggled at Danny's apt description of Steve. "But she'll be okay? And Steve; are they stitching him up?"

"Yes, some poor resident drew the short straw, and gets to sew Steve up while he stubbornly sits in a chair next to Jax. I just hope he's as tough as he thinks he is, and doesn't pass out watching," Danny said. Now that he thought of it, that was a very real concern. Oh well, it was the poor resident's problem now.

"Any new information on Chin? The doctor said they expected a full recovery," he said.

"That's what they're telling us, too," Kono said, slumping in the chair in relief.

"How did you do it, Kono?" Danny asked quietly. "How did you find him? My God, that water . . . and that wreckage. I was afraid you and Steve were going to break your necks."

Kono shrugged. "We knew to dive shallow. I think Chin stayed conscious for a bit, was able to use his arms to try to stay close to the surface."

"Yeah, but Kono . . . how did you find him?"

"The blood, Danny," Kono said quietly. "There was so much blood in the water . . . we just swam for it and literally bumped into Chin. Steve moved around, to get to his leg, you know . . . that must have been when he caught his shoulder on the wreckage."

"You're sure you're okay, babe?" Danny asked, brushing her still damp hair out of her face. "Steve seemed to know you would need oxygen."

"Yeah, I'm a great surfer but I'm no SEAL," Kono said. "I don't have his lung capacity."

"You weren't going to come up without Chin, were you," Danny said. It wasn't a question.

"Neither of us would have, Danny," Kono said. "I couldn't . . . how could I come up without him? How could I tell Malia that I came up to take a breath when . . . " She stopped short, clamping her hands over her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey, but you didn't have to," Danny soothed, wrapping her in his arms again. "Shh, babe, it's okay. I've got you."

Kono sobbed as the reality of what had happened washed over her, and she clung to Danny. Solid, dependable, wonderful Danny . . . Chin was her childhood hero and favorite cousin, Steve was her badass hardcore Navy SEAL boss - as much as she adored them both, she was always just a bit determined to prove herself to them. Not so much to Danny; no, Danny was like the big brother, always there, always safe.

She hadn't realized that she'd said that out loud until Danny sighed dramatically.

"Yeah, yeah, good ol' Danny," he grumbled, "always the big brother; that's what all the beautiful girls say. Good ol' Danny."

Kono laughed through her tears and hugged Danny fiercely.

She squared her shoulders. "I'm going to check on Jax," she said, "if you don't mind waiting here for Malia."

"I don't mind at all," Danny said, "but you're going to have to arm wrestle Steve to get him away from her and give you a turn. Though you have a better chance today than most days."

"Danny," Kono said earnestly, "from what I saw of Jax, she's covered in blood."

"Yeah," Danny said, grimacing at the recollection.

"So, she's definitely going to need to be cleaned up," Kono continued, "because you know she's going to insist on coming up to wait with us."

"Right . . . "

"Well, I'm no prude but I think Steve needs to get kicked out for that part," Kono finished, raising her eyebrows pointedly at Danny.

"Say no more, carry on with your mission," Danny said.

()()()()()()()()

"Okay, Commander, you're going to feel-" the resident stopped short as Steve raised his hand.

"No offense, doc, but I've been getting stitched up since you were in high school," Steve said. "Just do what you need to do."

"Okay, sir," the resident said, shaking his head. "But could you please try to sit still?"

Steve nodded, barely paying attention to the delicate needlework taking place on his shoulder blade, and focusing his attention instead on what was happening with Jax.

He paled just a bit when the doctor started to remove the gauze packed around the sharp wedge of wood, which was now soaked through with blood, giving it a horrible, rusty brown color.

"Commander, speak now if you can't handle this, and we will get everyone moved and situated," the doctor said firmly. "Otherwise, hold it together, soldier."

"Sailor," Steve corrected automatically, and nodded for the doctor to continue.

The same nurse who had cleaned his shoulder stepped up to assist the doctor; she added a syringe to Jax's IV.

"We're increasing her pain medication," she explained to Steve. "The debris is shallow but the edges are very uneven, and it's going to take a bit to get it out and clean the wound properly."

Steve nodded, gripping Jax's hand and watching for any indication that she was in pain. Her hand tightened on his slightly as they began to carefully remove the fragment. When it was almost free, Jax let out a low whimper as the final rough edge caught on the jagged wound.

The resident had wisely stilled his hands at the first sound; accurately predicting that Steve would lean forward to cup his free hand around Jax's face.

"Shh," he whispered to her, "it's okay, they've got it loose. Hold on, the worst is over."

The nurse smiled approvingly at the poor resident, and he nodded in appreciation that someone was noticing his skill in handling this unorthodox situation. He started considering options in non-military settings . . . maybe a nice job in plastics . . .

"The worst is over, right?" Steve whispered to the nurse.

"I'm afraid not," she said quietly. "Cleaning this out will be the worst part. See, here - " she indicated to Steve, who once again leaned forward at the peril of his suture job, "you can see the dirt and tiny splinters. I'm going to give her one more dose of Demerol in her IV, and then I will have given her the maximum dosage of pain medication. It may not be quite enough." She pondered for a moment, and looked to see how the resident was coming along.

"Tell you what, hold very still and let him finish the stitches - just two or three more," she said. "That way you can focus on Officer Nolan."

Steve nodded and sat stock still while the resident placed the last three stitches.

"All done, Commander," he said, wrapping up the suture materials and dropping everything into the red hazmat container.

"Thanks," Steve said sincerely. "Sorry about the, you know." He gestured vaguely at his chair pulled next to Jax's bed.

"It's okay," the resident said, smoothing a large bandage over the dozen or so stitches he'd just placed. He was proud of his work; the stitches were small and even, and there probably wouldn't be much of a scar - not that the commander had seemed to care at all. "I get it."

The nurse had fetched a set of scrubs for Steve. "Here, take a minute to get cleaned up and get comfortable while we wait for the Demerol to kick in. Once we start debriding, we'll be at it a bit."

Steve swayed just a bit as he stood up, and the nurse looked appraisingly at him.

"You sure you're up for this, sailor?" she asked. "We can call Detective Williams back down, I'm sure."

"I'm good," Steve assured her. "Be right back." He hurried to the large, well-lit restroom across the hall and quickly washed up and changed into the scrubs.

When he returned, the nurse had been joined by another nurse, and they had an assortment of equipment laid out on sterile trays.

"Okay, Commander, let's get your girl taken care of," the nurse said kindly.

Steve felt compelled to set the record straight. "She's actually HPD SWAT, not Five-O," he explained.

"Ummhmm," the nurse said, winking at him, "and that's why you call her ku'uipo?"

"Oh," Steve said, ducking his head a bit. "Yeah."

Jax stirred as they began the painstaking process of cleaning the dirt and tiny splinters out of the raw, jagged edges of her flesh.

"These other scars . . .?" the nurse asked.

"NYPD. 9/11," Steve said simply, and brushed Jax's hair out of her face as a quiet whimper escaped her.

"How long will this take, you think?" Steve asked the nurse. He already needed it to be over.

"Longer than you think you'll be able to handle, dear," the nurse said, "but you'll manage, I promise. Hold her hand, talk to her just like you're doing. We'll be as fast as we can."

()()()()()()()()

Kono almost didn't recognize him as she neared Jax's room.

Slumped over, hands over his face, exhaustion evident in every line of his body; she thought he was a resident, perhaps, at the end of a double shift. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, then, and the sleeves of the scrubs rode up, revealing the distinctive ink on his biceps.

"Steve," she whispered, her heart stopping for a moment. Surely Jax hadn't . . . it couldn't have been that bad, Danny would have said . . .

He looked up, focusing blearily on her with red-rimmed eyes.

"Hey, Kono," he said, "How's Chin? What do you know?" He was beyond frustrated that he hadn't made it up to the fourth floor yet, and he could see the nurse heading toward him with that blasted IV.

"He's in recovery, it looks good, boss," Kono said, placing her hand gently on his arm. "But you look like shit."

"It was . . . they had to debride . . ." he swallowed hard.

"Is she okay?" Kono asked, alarmed.

"Yeah, she's . . . God, Kono, the pain medicine they gave her wasn't enough; it wasn't . . . " he stopped short.

Kono wrapped her arms around him gently, pulling his head onto her shoulder. He resisted for a moment - he was the boss, after all - and she laughed.

"Oh, for the love of - give it up, Steve," she said, rubbing her fingers soothingly against his scalp. "This day is total shit and you deserve a minute to be unglued. I won't tell."

He let himself relax for a moment, then pulled himself together and straightened.

"Thanks, Kono," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "Okay, I'm good. I just had to - you're right, I just needed a minute."

"Well, you're going to get more than that," Kono said firmly. "Because you're not going back in there right now."

"Kono, I -" he protested.

She held up a hand. "Nope. Look, I know what comes next. Jax is covered in blood and who knows what else. They are going to need to get her cleaned up."

"Yeah, so?" Steve said stubbornly.

"Well, I happen to know, with absolute certainty, that Jax does not want to be drugged, freshly sutured, and covered in blood the first time she's naked and in a bed with you in the room, boss. She has something much different in mind."

It was the 'boss' in the middle of it that rendered him completely speechless. Kono laughed and patted him on the cheek. "You're blushing; that's cute," she observed. "Besides, I see an IV coming this way with your name on it," she said, smiling at the nurse approaching them.

"I can't do this right now," Steve tried, turning his most charming smile on the nurse. "I really need to get upstairs to check on Lieutenant Kelly. I'll come back-"

This time it was the nurse who cut him off with an upheld hand. Damn it, these women were besting him at every turn. Tiny little wisps of things, too.

"Commander, you are long overdue for this already," the nurse said. "But, seeing as how we are anxious to get you back to your teammate, and frankly, off our floor, if you'll agree to let an orderly take you up, you can go in a wheelchair and the IV can go with you."

"Hang the IV on a pole and I'll walk," Steve countered.

"My way or I'll have you admitted," the nurse retorted, completely nonplussed.

Well, damn.

"Okay," Steve sighed. "If that's what it takes to get up to Chin, fine."

()()()()()()()()

"Danny," Steve said quietly, as the orderly pushed him into the waiting room. The lights had been dimmed, and Danny sat in one of the corner chairs; legs stretched out in front of him, head back, eyes closed. Exhaustion was evident in every line of his solid frame.

Danny cracked open one eye, the rest of him completely umoving.

"Hey, partner," he said wearily. "Are you back in one piece?"

"More or less," Steve said. He turned to the orderly as he left the room. "Thanks, man; appreciate it."

Danny studied him a moment. "Did you take any pain meds? Yeah, I didn't think so. Come on, Steve; what are you trying to prove? That's gotta hurt."

"Maybe tonight, Danny, when I get home. I need to see Chin; then I'm going to need to check with Grover . . . " Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. The paperwork on this was going to be brutal.

"No way," Danny said emphatically. "HPD has an entire department to do paperwork and log evidence. There are only four of us. Chin is barely out of surgery, you are stitched and hooked up to an IV, and Kono is wheezing a little - yeah, she's not mentioning it but I'm keeping an ear out, trust me. And I can't even . . . I can't even talk about Jax right now so let's just stop at the count of four for Five-O."

"Danny," Steve sighed. "And you're exhausted from trying to be there for all of us at once. Like you always are."

"Yes," Danny said, smiling tiredly at Steve, "because I am the voice of reason in this operation."

He stopped and smiled as Malia came back into the waiting room.

"Hello, sweetheart, how's our boy?" he said standing up and putting his arms around her.

"He's responding appropriately, but they're keeping him sedated, of course, so he can rest. He'll be out of it for all of tonight at least," she said. "Thank you so much for waiting here. They are going to move him to a room soon and then you can slip in for a visit."

She looked down at Steve, and her hands automatically went to his IV, examining the label. "You got cut on the sunken wreckage?" she asked. "Where? How badly? Did they call plastics?"

"Malia," Steve said, stilling her hands with his. "I'm just fine. They let a resident practice on me in the ER."

"Steve!" Malia protested, as Steve chuckled in amusement.

"Seriously, Malia, it's nothing," he said.

She took his face gently in her hands. "Steven McGarrett; it's everything. What you did, you and Kono, going in after Chin - it's everything. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek. "And Jax - where is she? Did she have to go back with HPD?"

"She's still in the ER," Danny said gently. "She caught a pretty nasty chunk of a shipping pallet in her side. Steve stayed with her while they removed it and stitched her up; Kono is down there now while they get her cleaned up and discharged."

"Kono kicked me out," Steve blurted out. It came out sounding a lot more petulant than he had intended, and Malia laughed.

()()()()()()()()

"Chin's really okay?" Jax asked Kono, wincing as the nurses removed the rest of her bloodied and tattered clothing. The nurse had been more than happy for Kono to glove up and assist, as her presence seemed to satisfy Jax's stubborn demand for information and updates.

"He will be," Kono said, unlacing Jax's boots and pulling them off. She held them up for Jax to see. "Can these be salvaged?" she asked dubiously.

Jax wrinkled her nose. "Negative. I'll have to break in another pair. Kono, your arm, and your cheek - did that happen today?"

"No, I was doing some surveillance at Sandy's Beach and took a wipe out the other day," Kono said, as Jax turned her arm gently. "They gave me an IV antibiotic today, after my little dip in the harbor, just to be safe."

Jax shook her head. "That was no little dip, Kono. That was . . . terrifying. And amazing."

"You and your partner were amazing, too," Kono said. "We did good today, my friend."

"Officer Kalakaua," the nurse said, "I'm going to help Jax lift up just slightly, if you'll pull her cargoes off . . . okay, on the count of three: one, two, three . . . "

Kono pulled as gently as she could, and she knew the nurse was skilled and cautious, but a cry of pain was wrenched out of Jax with the motion.

"I'm sorry," the nurse murmured, laying her hand gently on Jax's shoulder as she panted through the pain.

"Holy _shit_ ," Jax gritted out. "It's okay . . . can't be avoided."

"If you'd just let me give you another shot," the nurse suggested.

"Please, no," Jax said, looking earnestly at the nurse. "I have a specific pain protocol at home that doesn't . . . regular narcotics give me nightmares. I'll take something when I get home, I promise. I'll sleep like a baby, possibly after saying any number of completely humiliating things."

The nurse looked skeptically at Kono. "Will there be someone to make sure she does that?"

"Oh, there's definitely someone willing to play doctor for Jax," Kono said, grinning wickedly. "And wait, what sort of humiliating things?"

Jax groaned and put her hands over her face.

"Well, then let's get you cleaned up," the nurse said, "if you're sure you can handle it."

"Yeah, do what you have to do," Jax said, gritting her teeth.

Jax was ashen and shaking they time time they had removed her clothing, sponged her clean, and helped her put on a clean set of scrubs. It had taken a grueling ten minutes, and while Jax did her best to hide it, Kono could tell that the pain had been intense.

"Thank you, Kono," Jax said, collapsing against the pillows when they were finally, blessedly, finished. "I really didn't want the guys . . . you know. So thanks for . . . and you left Chin to come down and be here; you shouldn't have done that."

"I figured you wouldn't want Steve or Danny giving you a sponge bath," Kono winked. "And it's fine; Danny and Steve are upstairs with Malia."

Jax clenched her jaw and tried to pull herself up higher in the bed. "I want to go see him," she said stubbornly.

"Sistah, you can barely breathe," Kono said. "Give it a few. They are probably just now moving him to a room. Here," she said, handing Jax a cup of ice water. It reminded her of the first undercover operation; which had been scant weeks ago, but somehow, it felt like Jax had been part of their little ohana for a long time now.

"Okay, we're going to give you a round of IV antibiotics," the nurse said, switching out the saline bag for another bag and fiddling with the IV connections. "I don't even want to think about what was brewing on that chunk of wood."

"Can I take the IV up to see Officer Kelly?" Jax asked.

"No, my dear, you are not ready to move around just yet," the nurse said emphatically. I would appreciate it, though, Officer Kalakaua, if you would be willing to go retrieve Commander McGarrett. It's probably time to take his IV out, and he can give you an update."

()()()()()()()()

Kono bumped into Grover as she exited Jax's room.

"Officer Kalakaua," Grover said, wrapping her in a big hug. "Excellent work today. How's Chin?"

"He was lucky," Kono said. "The bullet did knick the femoral artery and a smaller vein. Your medics saved his life, no doubt about it."

"Only because you and your crazy boss managed to dive around a sunken ship and pull him out," Grover said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I came by to check on an officer that got injured in the blast in the harbor master's office, but I want to check in on Chin, and of course give Jax an atta' girl for a job well done."

"Jax is all cleaned up and resting . . . well, not comfortably, but with a round of IV antibiotic, and then when that's done they'll discharge her," Kono said, not realizing that Grover had no idea of Jax's injury.

"Cleaned . . . IV . . . excuse me, Kono, but what the hell?" Grover said.

"Oh . . . Captain Grover, I'm sorry, I thought you realized . . . Jax was injured," Kono said, ushering Grover into Jax's room. "Hey, Jax, your boss is here to check up on you."

Jax blinked wearily at Grover. "Hey, Captain."

"Officer Nolan, please explain yourself," Grover said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I, um, I'm supposed to go get Steve," Kono said, as she beat a hasty retreat.

"I apparently caught a shard of a shipping pallet during the shooting," Jax said, somewhat sheepishly. "Didn't realize it until after we'd brought Chin in to the helipad." She winced in pain and Grover stepped to her side.

"What do you need, honey?" he said, rubbing his huge hand over her head. "Have they given you anything for pain?"

"While they were stitching and stuff; I don't want any more. I'll have a set of scrips at home - at Steve's - that don't . . . " she trailed off, glancing down.

Grover tucked a finger under her chin and turned her face up to look at him. "Okay, I gotcha. How about some water, then?"

Jax nodded gratefully as Grover handed her the cup of ice water.

"When your previous supervising officers mentioned to me that you were prone to injury, I assumed it was because they were not looking out for you well enough," Grover sighed. "I'm now inclined to agree with Officer Williams: you, Nolan, are a trouble magnet. Do you know what you're going to do to our group insurance rates?"

"If it's a problem, there's a space for her at Five-O," Steve drawled as he sauntered into the room. Well, attempted a saunter: it was more of an exhausted limp, if they were being honest.

"McGarrett, I'd say you were a bad influence on my new officer, but I'm pretty sure she was already your brand of crazy when I hired her," Grover said. He took in Steve's exhaustion, and the bandaid covering his recent IV site. "Did you get hit, son?"

"Nah, just grazed my shoulder on the wreckage," Steve said, shrugging and then wincing in pain.

"You people are unbalanced," Grover groused. "I supposed I won't get my medic back . . . again . . . until she's cleared for active duty? Is this some conspiracy to bankrupt HPD from the inside out?"

Jax looked horrified and Grover realized that she was taking him far too seriously. "Hey, darlin', no, no, I'm just kidding. You take as much time as you need to recover. When you feel up to it, don't worry, there's always inventory and paperwork. Officer Halia will have you doing his grunt work. He's very fond of you, by the way. Said you did an amazing job today. Good work." Grover tousled her hair again, gently. "Okay, do you have everything you need? Rides? Anything we can do?"

The nurse stepped in. "You can ensure that these two get home so they can get some decent rest," she said, looking sternly at Steve and Jax.

"I'm not leaving until I see Chin," Jax said, setting her jaw stubbornly.

"He's just settled in a regular room, but he's pretty out of it, "Steve said. "How about we all go up, say hello, and then wish Malia a good night. Grover, if you'd drive us back to my place, and then have someone get Kono's car back here for her, I'd be grateful. None of us are in a condition to drive. Danny is dead on his feet going back and forth between all of us."

Grover's eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he nodded. He'd never heard Steve mention not driving. Never.

()()()()()()()()

"Thanks, Lou," Steve whispered, as he wearily unfolded himself from the front seat of Grover's SUV.

"No problem, my friend," Grover said. He glanced in his rear view mirror and realized that Jax was passed out, sound asleep, on Danny's shoulder.

"I've got her," Danny said, as he slid out gently.

Grover put the SUV in park and turned off the ignition. "Nah, Williams, you're not in much better shape than Steve. Let me."

Steve walked ahead to open the front door. Exhaustion was taking hold, and he couldn't wait to get everyone settled and collapse. Danny was closing the rear door as Grover gently pulled Jax from the back seat. She let out a soft groan as movement pulled at her fresh stitches.

"Where do you want her, Steve?" Grover asked, stepping through the front door.

Even in his haze of exhaustion, Steve had to give his subconscious a firm shake.

"Guest room," he said, leading the way for Grover, who deposited Jax gently on the bed.

"You guys sure you'll be okay?" Grover asked. "I could send someone over."

"Nah, I just need a hot shower and a good cup of coffee, and I'll be okay for anything that comes up overnight," Danny assured. "Thanks for the ride, though."

"Well, take it easy, would ya?" Grover said. "And give a call if HPD can do anything for Five-O."

Steve locked the door after Grover and leaned back against it.

"You okay, babe?" Danny asked. "What do you need first? Shower, coffee, pain meds, sleep?"

"Can I do all of those at once?" Steve asked, grinning tiredly.

()()()()()()()()

In fairly short order, both Steve and Danny were showered and sorted. Danny was keeping an ear open for Jax as he puttered in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee, while Steve collapsed on the sofa and searched for a game. Adrenaline was a funny thing, and days like today left them both exhausted and wired. Danny grabbed a beer for himself and headed to the living room.

"Where's my beer?" Steve grumbled.

"I assumed you'd need some pretty serious painkillers, babe," Danny said. "In which case no alcohol."

Steve pondered that one for a moment.

"If you're worried about Jax, don't," Danny said. "I'm staying overnight. I'll keep an ear out for the both of you."

Steve sighed. "Yeah, okay, Danny. If you're sure, then I'll take something in a while."

"Okay, then," Danny said, rubbing his hands together. "Then soup and toast, because you can't take those on an empty stomach, either."

Steve looked fondly at Danny's retreating back. Someday soon, when he could form coherent thought, he would find a way to express to Danny how much he appreciated him. His musings were interrupted by sounds coming from the guest room, and he hauled himself awkwardly off the sofa and headed down the hall.

"Danny?" Jax muttered quietly. She moved as if to sit up and gasped in pain, her arm curling protectively around her side.

Steve crossed to the bed, his own discomfort forgotten. "Jax, hey, easy," he whispered, gently pressing her shoulder back against the bed.

"D'ja call Danny? And Billy, please," she mumbled, and Steve sighed. He stepped to the doorway and called quietly for Danny, who came from the kitchen.

"She's asking for you . . . and Billy," Steve explained. "Thought it might be easier if you were in here when she wakes up."

"Injury is in about the same place," Danny observed. "Shit, it's no wonder she's confused." He bent down next to the bed and brushed Jax's hair out of her face. "Hey, babe, it's Danno. Can you wake up for me?"

Jax shook her head. "Don't wanna," she mumbled, and Danny and Steve exchanged amused smiles.

"I don't blame you, kid," Danny said, "but if you can wake up for me, you can have a bit of soup and toast, and then some really, really good painkillers. I'm thinking you could really use those right about now."

Jax cracked one eye open at Danny, and looked past him to Steve. Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Hey, babe, give it a minute, think about where you are, okay?" Danny said, stroking her cheek gently.

"I'm . . . not New York," she said. "Steve's. Chin got shot today."

"Yeah, that's my girl, okay," Danny said. "Let's get you up, get some food and painkillers in you and get you a decent night's rest, yeah?"

With some difficulty, Jax maneuvered to her feet and shuffled toward the kitchen. Danny had set out three bowls of soup and a plate of toast. Neat piles of pills sat next to two of the bowls.

"Danny," Jax sighed, "you're the best, really."

Steve nodded in agreement, his mouth too full of toast to speak.

"And don't forget it," Danny said. "Now, eat up, so you can dope up, so we can all get some rest."

()()()()()()()()

"I swear, I did not teach her any of those words," Danny said, shaking his head ruefully. "Well, not most of them."

Food and medication taken care of, the three had shuffled into the living room and collapsed - Jax yelping in pain - to watch the game. They were exhausted but still too wound up from the day's events to sleep.

As the drugs started to take effect, Jax's language became . . . colorful. There were some truly horrible calls being made by the referees, and she was having none of it.

Steve grinned at Danny over Jax's head, curled next to him and covered in her favorite blanket.

"She could hold her own with an entire battleship. Is this a Jersey thing?" he said, tangling his fingers in her hair. "Yes, bad call, ku'uipo, I agree."

"Jersey, NYPD, FDNY . . . her old man," Danny said. "Take your pick."

"So, if these drugs lower her inhibitions . . . " Steve began.

"Yeah, 'thigh holster' comes to mind," agreed Danny.

". . . then this is the unfiltered version, and we should be amazed that she restrains -" Steve broke off as he sensed Jax tense and fidgeting next to him. One of the players was down, and the trainers were running on to the field.

"He's down," she pointed out. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, fingers twisting nervously in the blanket. Steve rubbed her shoulder in a futile attempt to get her to relax.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," he said absently.

"He damn well might not be," she said, "he might have broken his neck and this time he might not get back up."

"Whoa, babe," Danny said, as Jax covered her face with her hands.

Steve felt her shaking and wrapped his arms around her gently. "It's okay, Jax, I've got you. The adrenaline is wearing off and the drugs are kicking in, yeah?"

She nodded miserably. "I thought you weren't coming back up. You, and Kono, and Chin . . . I thought we were going to stand on that pier and watch all three of you die. And I thought, that's it, I won't survive losing them, but I'll have to keep living, because I can't do that to Danny, I wouldn't be able to end it because Danny and Gracie would be so sad, and I was going to be trapped. Like I was in New York, when the bridge didn't work -" she broke off and clamped her hands over her mouth.

Steve and Danny exchanged stunned looks. Had she just . . .

"Babe . . . " Danny said slowly, "I thought that a perp broke your arm, clocked you over the head, and shoved you off the Montauk bridge. That's what they told me at the hospital."

Jax looked down at the blanket twisted between her fingers, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with Danny.

 _Stupid stupid drugs,_ she thought. _And now they'll send me back to New York . . . no one will want . . ._

"No, no, ku'uipo," Steve whispered, "you're not going back . . . this doesn't change anything."

Jax eyes widened. She couldn't work out how Steve knew what she was thinking. He smiled softly at her confusion.

"Remember the drugs . . . you say things out loud without realizing it," he reminded her.

"Shit," she whispered, clamping her mouth shut firmly.

Danny was pacing, running his hands through his hair; a sure sign of the apocalypse, as far as Steve was concerned.

"Jax, I can't believe . . . how did . . . did they know? Did the doctors know?" he stopped pacing and stood facing Jax and Steve. He needed to _fix this;_ somehow, he wasn't sure how, but there had to be a way to fix it. Blaming the doctors seemed like a good place to start. Stupid doctors, they should have known, they should have _told him_ because he would have . . . he would have done _something._

Steve felt Jax cringe next to him and he tightened his hold on her, trying not to jostle her stitches.

"I'm sorry, Danny," she whispered, tears welling up unbidden in her eyes. "I didn't want . . . I was just so tired. I didn't mean for you to ever know . . . "

She'd misread his anger. He sat on the edge of the coffee table so that he could look into her eyes.

"Babe, no . . . " he assured her. "I'm not upset with you . . . I just can't believe we didn't know. I'm so sorry, honey, so sorry you went through that without us realizing . . . promise me, Jax, promise me that if you ever - you'll talk to me. Or Steve, or Kono, or Chin. Just . . . promise."

"Okay, Danny," she nodded. A tear escaped, and then another, and Steve thumbed them away gently.

 _The hell with it_ , his brain supplied, and mindless of Danny, who could possibly throttle him, he cupped Jax's face in his hands and kissed her.

"I'm right here, Jax," he said, brushing his thumb over her lips, "and you're staying here, and everyone is okay. Got it?" He kissed her again, determined to help her find her footing in the here and now.

Jax nodded, and relaxed a bit, nestling her head into the crook of Steve's neck. It was safe, and warm, and _Steve_ . . . and . . .

"I was really afraid that you were going to die and we wouldn't have even . . . you know . . . " she whispered plaintively. Or at least, she thought she had whispered.

Danny threw up his hands. "Really, you are serious with this, right now?!"

"It's the drugs?" Jax offered innocently, yawning. With the adrenaline all but gone, and the drugs rapidly taking over, she was losing the fight and being pulled under into sleep.

Steve smirked at Danny.

"Oh, you, wipe that look off your face," Danny sniped, but there was nothing but affection in his tone.

Jax was vaguely aware of being gently lifted, surprised that nothing seemed to hurt, and she recognized the familiar scent of the sheets on the guest bed. The last thing she was aware of was Steve's voice, low and rumbly and close to her ear, and a sense of weight on the mattress behind her.

"You can shoot me and drag my dead body to the floor, Danny, if you want to. Otherwise, she's not waking up alone. Not tonight, not tomorrow night, or any night after that; not until she kicks me to the curb."


	24. Chapter 24

**Sunday**

Jax woke to the smell of coffee, and the sound of gentle rain. She stretched carefully and took stock of her injuries: stiff and sore, but so far the pain wasn't terrible. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the lingering smell of the hospital on the scrubs she was still wearing; and she groaned as she ran her fingers through her hair - the curls were hopelessly tangled. Sighing at the thought of delaying her reunion with coffee, she gathered her things and headed for the bathroom first.

She studied herself in the mirror after she replaced the dressing over her stitches: bruising, almost completely faded; color . . . well, she was pale on a good day, and the smattering of freckles standing out in starker contrast across her nose made her look even younger than she was. No wonder Danny and Grover always called her 'kid'. Decided that nothing could improve upon her situation more than coffee - and maybe some serious help with her impossibly snarled hair - she headed toward the kitchen.

()()()()()()()()

"Thank you, governor," Steve said into his phone, as he came down the stairs. "No, actually, I have no objections to letting the DEA come in and handle this. Five-O doesn't have the manpower to process either the drugs or the suspects at this point; not with Chin in the hospital. Yes, governor, Tuesday should be fine, thank you."

Steve paused and smiled as he entered the kitchen. Jax was perched on a kitchen stool, her hands wrapped around a mug. Danny was standing behind her, armed with a wide-tooth comb and a spray bottle of some sort. There seemed to be some sort of . . . situation with Jax's unruly curls, and Danny was painstakingly attacking one section at a time.

"How did this even happen?" Danny said, glancing up at Steve as he entered the kitchen. His tone was lighthearted, but Steve could see a suspicious sheen in his eyes.

Steve grabbed a cup of coffee and moved to sit next to Jax, squeezing Danny's shoulder as he moved behind him. Last night's revelation had been more difficult for Danny than for any of them.

"I think the combination of rotor wash and hospital bed," Jax answered. "You're letting DEA take over?"

"Yep," Steve said, "and we aren't so much as going to turn on the computer until Tuesday."

"Let me check outside for the flying pigs," Danny grumbled. "You've taken a long weekend."

"Well, Danny," Steve said, in his 'let's be patient with Danny' voice, "Chin is in the hospital, which means Kono needs to be at the hospital, and you're exhausted. Seemed like a solid tactical plan."

"I'm not complaining, and it is a solid plan," Danny said, frowning as the comb stuck fast in a tangle. "Um, babe, we may have our first casualty in the war on your hair. No, hold still . . . anyway, HPD is going to bring my car over, and I plan to go visit Chin and then sleep until Tuesday. You people have worn me out."

Jax's shoulders tensed. "I'm sorry, Danny," she said quietly.

"Hey - no, sweetie, it's not . . . look, I had three team members in the Honolulu Harbor yesterday, okay?" he said, squeezing her shoulder gently. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "And your hair, it has defeated me."

"Let me try," Steve said.

"You? You have no experience in this field of battle. I have experience. I have a nine year old daughter," Danny protested. "Wait, Steve, you do realize that you can't shoot out the tangles or eliminate them with your Rambo knife, right?"

"I have exceptionally good fine motor skills and hand dexterity," Steve proclaimed.

Jax tilted her head and looked at him. "Really. Good to know," she said, a glint in her eye.

"Oh my lord . . . that's just . . . here," Danny said, shoving the detangling spray at Steve. "I have to go shower now."

Steve chuckled and stood behind Jax. "Okay. So, how does this work?"

"Um, Danny said something about it being very important to start at the bottom and work your way up," Jax supplied helpfully.

"Copy that. Has this ever happened before?" Steve said, as he started to gently work the comb out of the tangle. "How did you fix it?"

"Yeah. Well, let's just say the asymmetrical haircut was more of a tactical solution than a fashion choice," Jax shrugged.

()()()()()()()()

Operation Detangle complete, Jax and Steve rode with Danny to pick up Steve's truck, and continued to the hospital to visit Chin. Malia fussed over Steve and Jax and insisted on having the nurse take their vitals.

It was a brief visit, but enough for the team members to assure themselves that they were all okay. Jax had never been hugged so much at one time, and it was a little overwhelming. She slipped out into the hallway and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment.

Steve came out of Chin's room and leaned against the wall next to her.

"When I came back for my father's funeral," he said quietly, "I didn't plan to stay. I'd been on the move so long . . . I'd lost the one close friend I had in the SEALs. I hadn't planned to make friends, put roots back down in Hawaii. It was terrifying, to be honest. Sometimes it still unnerves me. But it's worth it."

Jax nodded.

"I'm glad you came to Hawaii," Steve said. "I'm glad you stayed." He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.

Still inside Chin's room, Kono closed the door quietly and leaned against it, grinning at Chin and Malia. "I'll just give it a few minutes," she said.

()()()()()()()()

It was raining again when Steve and Jax arrived back at his house, one of the drenching afternoon downpours that the locals secretly loved. By the time they got to the front porch, they were both soaked. Jax shrugged and stepped off the porch, back into the rain.

"You're crazy," Steve called from the porch, smiling as Jax twirled around, turning her face up to the rain.

"It smells so clean," she yelled. She stuck her tongue out and caught the rain. "It even tastes clean," she marveled.

"I'm telling Danny," Steve teased. "He'll insist that Jersey rain is somehow superior."

Jax laughed and stepped back up onto the porch. "We're going to make a huge mess if we go in the house," she said. "Maybe we should stand out here and drip dry."

"Except you're already shivering," Steve said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, we're already soaked, let's run around back. We can ditch our shoes on the lanai, and there's a stack of towels back there."

He took her hand and they made their way around the back of the house. In a moment, they were standing, dripping, under the cover of the second story lanai, where they had watched the thunderstorm. They each tugged off their boots, and as they set them on a low bench, Steve couldn't help but smile at the size difference.

When he looked up, he was surprised to see Jax unselfconsciously shedding her cargo pants.

"Oh, um, sorry," he said, turning away.

"Steve," she said, "l can hardly walk in these, they're heavy soaking wet. Besides, I know what passes for a bikini around here. Trust me, my skivvies cover way more than Kono's swimwear. It's not a big deal."

He turned back around, pulling off his drenched shirt. Jax was hanging her cargo pants over a chair. She was right; her simple cotton underwear was modest by island standards. She reached up to wring out her hair, and he caught a glimpse of the bandage covering her stitches. It looked wet.

"You'll need to change that," he said, nodding his head at her side. She pulled up the hem of her sodden t-shirt and made a face. She put a gentle hand on his arm and turned him slightly, checking the bandage on his shoulder blade.

"Yours, too," she said. Her fingers stroked gently between his shoulders, trailing down his spine.

His breath hitched.

"Sorry," she murmured.

He turned and put one hand gently on her shoulder, the other wrapping around her hip, his thumb caressing the scar. "Don't be," he said, smiling.

She traced her fingers over the intricate ink on his biceps, then stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck, her hand threading through his wet hair and pulling him down, her lips brushing his.

He crushed her to him for a moment, deepening the kiss, and then reluctantly pulled back.

"Jax . . . " he started.

"Steve." She shook her head. "All the bruises are long healed. And we just came in from a cold shower and apparently that's no longer cutting it for you," she smirked at him.

"You have stitches," he murmured, his hand gently touching the bandage on her side.

"No shit," she said cheerfully. "So do you. Let's just assume that's going to be more the rule than the exception. You're Naval Intelligence and I have an exceptional understanding of human anatomy. I'm sure between the two of us we can come up with some crazy good analysis and navigate the obstacles."

He looked at her like she was a rocket launcher, a perfect wave, and an island sunset all rolled into one.

"Yeah?" he said, pushing her wet hair out of her face.

"Oh, yeah," she said emphatically. "Navigate your way out of those soaking wet cargoes, for starters."

Steve chucked the wet pants haphazardly over a nearby chair. Jax laughed as he picked her up effortlessly, carefully avoiding the latest row of stitches. He groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and debated for a split second just how many neighbors were likely to be outside, before striding purposefully inside the house.

When he got to the stairs, he paused and set her down gently on the second stair, bringing her almost eye level with him. He ran his fingers through her damp hair again, and kissed her, slowly and gently.

His fingers toyed with the hem of her wet t-shirt, and she wordlessly lifted her arms so he could pull it up and off. She shivered a bit as the air hit her damp skin. His arms wrapped around her gently, pulling her close to him.

"You can go in the guest room, get dry clothes, and we can watch a movie," he said. "Makes no difference to me, Jax." He stroked her cheek gently with the back of his hand.

She raised her eyebrows at him, that wicked, wicked glint that he loved so much shining in her eyes.

"No difference? Really and truly?" she said, pressing against him and kissing him soundly, leaving no question as to her intentions and enthusiasm.

"Okay, maybe I lied just a little," he growled, and she laughed in delight as she was once again swept into his arms and he took the stairs two at a time.

"Analysis?" he murmured, kissing along her collarbone as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot. "Because, there's a theory I've been wanting to test . . . "

"Hmm, and anatomy," she mumbled against his neck, as she kicked the door closed behind them. "And what theory?"

()()()()()()()()

Danny juggled the bag of take-out and the six pack of Longboards. He turned the doorknob and nearly gave himself a concussion as he walked into the door. Which had not opened. Strange. Steve's truck was right there in the driveway, and he rarely locked the front door.

He sighed and trudged around to the kitchen door, muttering in frustration when he found it locked, as well.

"Of all the times to suddenly take home security seriously," he groused, hefting his bags and heading around back. He chuckled at the sight of the two pairs of cargo boots drying side by side on the bench.

"What on . . . did the dryer break or something?" he muttered, looking at the cargo pants hanging on the backs of chairs. "It's the pockets, they retain water."

Finally, a point of entry. Danny stepped into the house and headed to the kitchen. They'd mentioned him bringing in Chinese . . . he was pretty sure they had, anyway . . . so they were probably in the kitchen . . .

()()()()()()()()

Definitely even better than the oh-yay-coffee sigh, Steve was thinking. Similar, but better.

"What?" Jax asked, as she saw a slow smile spread over his face.

"Proved my theory," he said, as if that would make sense. Whatever; she didn't have many functioning brain cells at the moment.

She replaced the bandage over the stitches on his shoulder blade, smoothing the edges down gently and pressing a kiss to his shoulder when she was done. She was sitting perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, so that she could reach his shoulder more easily.

"Here," he said, motioning to her side.

"I can get it," she shrugged.

He picked up a pad of gauze and the surgical tape. "Humor me," he smiled down at her, his ridiculous lashes blinking sated and lazy. After pressing the clean bandage into place, his thumb traced over the small, stylized numbers inked just at the top of her thigh.

"I thought I caught a glimpse . . . that day you were swimming with Gracie," he said. "But I wasn't sure. 3 - 6 - 1?"

"Ladder 3, 6th Battalion, 1st Division," she said quietly, looking down at his hand.

He wrapped his hands, warm and strong, around her hips, and bent and pressed a gentle kiss to the ink. "Your brother's firehouse?" he asked. She nodded. He tucked his finger under her chin, turning her eyes up to his. "And Jake's," he added quietly. She nodded again, biting her lip in hesitation.

"Hey, no," he said, kissing her gently. "It's a beautiful tribute to them, Jax. To both of them."

"You don't mind it?" she asked.

He pressed another kiss to the ink. "Of course not," he said, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her again. He didn't intend to stop until the uncertainty in her eyes was gone.

Or until someone broke into his damn house, which apparently had happened, from the clanking in the kitchen.

"Hey," Jax protested, as he stopped kissing her and put his hand over her mouth. She bit him.

"Someone's in the house," he hissed. She decided she really loved his expression: half we-have-a-situation and half screw-the-situation-that's-hot. She wondered what Danny would name that expression, and idly wondered if Danny had ever _seen_ that expression, and wouldn't _that_ be interesting.

"Yo, Steve? Jax?" Danny yelled from downstairs.

"Yo," Steve sighed, closing his eyes. "Danny's in the house."

Jax looked confused. "He said something about coming over for Sunday evening take-out? Like it was some ritual you guys had."

"You might have mentioned," he scolded.

"Me? Wha - but it's not Sunday, how was I supposed to -" Jax protested.

"Jax, what day do you think it is?" Steve asked, amused and perhaps just a little concerned.

"Well, it was Thursday, and then yesterday there was the whole Chin getting shot, and that was Friday . . wait, no . . ." Jax paused. "Shit, it's Sunday. Hey, Danny's coming over with take-out," she supplied helpfully.

"Oh, God, this is why I never dated any of my friends' sisters," Steve groaned. "And how can you not know what day it is?"

Jax wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close. "You're lucky I remember what my name is," she whispered in his ear, kissing her way down his neck.

He had almost forgotten about Danny when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He pulled away from Jax so quickly that he almost fell over backwards.

"You know, most serious injuries at home are falls," Jax offered.

"Would you - Danny is on his way up those stairs," Steve hissed, turning to leave the bathroom. He turned back, quickly, and carefully helped Jax off the bathroom counter, dashing back into his bedroom the instant her feet were securely on the floor. He grabbed a pair of jeans out of a drawer and slid into them, running his fingers through his hair.

Jax laughed at him and shook her head. Shirtless, in butter soft denim, hair obviously tousled . . .

"You're like, the poster boy of naughty," she said. "I don't think Danny's going to be fooled. He is a detective, you know."

"Would you - hello, put _something_ on besides your underwear, please," Steve pleaded. He gestured toward his closet. "Anything. Help yourself. I'm going to intercept Danny before he comes in here with his gun drawn."

()()()()()()()()

Danny went from annoyed to alarmed when there was no response to his call. Steve and Jax had obviously made it home; he recognized their ridiculous his-and-her cargoes and boots on the lanai. But there were no lights on in the downstairs, and more noticeably, no coffee brewing or recently brewed.

He drew his sidearm and headed quietly for the stairs.

Danny reached Jax's discarded t-shirt on the third stair just as Steve appeared at the top.

"Geez, Danny, put the gun away," Steve said.

Danny held up Jax's shirt. "There's wet laundry everywhere. Did your dryer break? And why didn't you answer. I yelled for you, like three times. And what's with your doors being locked all weird?"

Steve ignored all of Danny's questions and headed down the stairs. Kitchen. They should get to the kitchen, then Jax would go put on her own clothes, and he could avoid -

"Hey, Danny, did you get dumplings?" Jax asked, walking out of Steve's bedroom calmly, as if she hadn't just turned his world on its axis.

Steve sighed. They'd made it two steps away from the staircase. He noticed that Danny was staring past him at Jax, speechless, which could be an indication of impending apocalypse. He turned to see what had Danny so uncharacteristically quiet.

Oh. Well, damn.

Jax was heading down the stairs, her curls in glorious, riotous disarray, wearing one of his button up shirts. It covered her from neck to knee and yet did nothing to keep her from looking absolutely delectable.

"Oh. OH. Oh for crying . . . " Danny sputtered, gesturing between Steve and Jax. "Stitches . . . you both have stitches, how did you even -"

"Danny," Jax said, smiling. "Do you really want to know? I could, you know, make you a little diagram . . ."

Steve put his face in his hands. How was this his life?

Jax breezed past them, unconcerned. "There better be dumplings. I'm starving."

()()()()()()()()

"So . . . " Steve said hesitantly, as he sat next to Danny, looking out over the water. "Are we okay, Danny? I mean, you're good with this?" He fidgeted with the label on his Longboard.

"It would help if I didn't have to see the two of you coming down those stairs looking like something from the cover of an adult video, but yeah, otherwise, I'm good. I was worried, at first, about you hurting her. Not on purpose," he added quickly, at the hurt look on Steve's face. "Just, you know, I thought I had some idea that she was vulnerable. Turns out I was clueless as to _how_ vulnerable, but she trusted you enough to start opening up . . . and then I saw the look on your face when she came down those stairs today, and I knew."

"Knew what, Danno?"

"You're beyond smitten. You're in love with that girl, Steve."

"Pretty sure you're right, Danny," Steve said quietly.

"Only pretty sure?"

"Well, hard to say, seeing as how I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't have a point of reference," Steve answered. "To be honest, I'm feeling a little . . . overwhelmed."

Danny smiled wistfully. "That's a good sign. What else?"

"I'm feeling like I could actually . . . Danny, when I was tapped for SEALs, I never expected this," he gestured behind him, at the house. "I never expected a life, a home, settling down . . . "

"Because firing off about a hundred rounds and diving off a pier into a shipwreck - an actual shipwreck, Steven - is settling down for you. You crazy idiot."

Steve grinned and shrugged. "My version of settling down . . . it's all relative. But here I am, back home - literally. And I don't know, Danny, with Jax here, it just fits, you know? She makes it home. Like, white picket fence, grow old together, home. I'm in uncharted territory, Danny; I never expected to . . . I never let myself think I could have that."

"All you're missing is a dog and 2.5 kids," Danny said, looking sideways at Steve to gauge his reaction.

"I'm actually more of a cat person," Steve said absently.

"That? That is what you trip on? The dog?" Danny asked, incredulous. "The whole kid thing . . . that doesn't phase you?"

Steve pondered that for a moment. He thought about Gracie . . . about how tiny she must have been before they came to Hawaii . . . and then he was imagining a little girl with red hair and green eyes . . .

"Oh, wow," Danny chuckled. "You're totally thinking about a kid."

Steve grinned. "Think about it, Danny. A little tiny version of Jax."

"Jax is already a little tiny version of Jax. I'm picturing a tiny Steve with red hair, hell-bent on blowing shit up."

Steve grinned even bigger.

Danny shook his head and smiled. "So, I guess now is a good time to tell you I got an email confirmation; Jax's stuff from New York is due to arrive on your doorstep tomorrow morning."

With that, Danny stood up. "Give Jax my love; I think you two might have a few things to discuss. I'm going to head home. For the love of God, just . . . please, don't tear any stitches . . . "

()()()()()()()()

Jax looked up from the laptop, and Steve's brain did that thing again, where it flipped through a stack of ideas - damn Danny and that word-a-day calendar - and settled once again on _damn._ Not original, but appropriate.

She was still wearing his shirt, though in deference to Danny she'd rolled her eyes and slipped some gym shorts on underneath. She'd managed to twist her hair into some sort of messy arrangement to keep it out of her face, and she was wearing glasses. He'd never seen the glasses but he liked them. Really a lot.

"I like the glasses," he blurted out, because his brain was still stuck on _damn._

"I only wear them when my eyes are tired and giving me a headache," she said, shuffling through a stack of papers.

"Your head hurts?" he frowned. Earlier, she'd not been sure what day it was. Maybe that wasn't just his stellar . . . analysis. "Okay, tomorrow we are getting Malia to set up someone to check that."

She started to protest but suddenly he was on the sofa next to her, cupping her face in his hand.

"You are unbelievable," she said, her voice tired but amused.

"What?"

"You're totally checking my pupil response, and thinking I won't notice," she said.

"I was hoping to distract you," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers, and taking the stack of papers out of her hands. "What are you working on, anyway?"

"Parts list for the Marquis," she said. "I think I have everything ready to place an order tomorrow."

"Your stuff is arriving tomorrow," he said, fiddling with the elastic holding her hair back. "Danny got an email."

"Oh." She bit her lip and opened a new tab on the laptop. "Do you mind . . . can I store the boxes in the garage until . . . I'll get right on finding a place. I'm sorry, with HPD and Chin, I haven't . . . but I'll start looking."

"No," Steve said quietly. "I don't want your stuff in my garage."

She tried to keep the hurt out of her eyes but she was tired, and damn it, her head hurt, and really, that was sort of a surprise, she hadn't thought a few boxes . . .

"Shit," Steve swore quietly when he saw her blinking back tears. "Ku'uipo, no that's not . . . I don't want your stuff in the garage because I want you to unpack it. All of it. Here. I want you to stay here."

"Like, here here? At the house?" she asked.

"Here, as in, home. Move in with me. Not the guest room," he said, kissing her to better explain what he meant.

She closed the laptop with one hand and wrapped the other around his neck, angling her head to give him better access to whatever that was he was doing.

She sighed, that better than yay-for-coffee sigh, and unfolded herself from the sofa. Without a word, she headed to the guest bathroom. Steve watched, curious, as she came back out with her toothbrush in hand.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

"Moving my toothbrush to my new room," she said, moving to the staircase. She turned back and smiled at him, and she really was a rocket launcher, and a perfect wave, and an island sunset all rolled into one. "You coming?" she asked, not bothering to wait for an answer as she turned and started up the stairs.

"No tearing stitches," he said, as he tripped over his feet in a decidedly un-SEAL-like fashion. "I promised Danny."


	25. Reserve Weekend

"I expected you to be happier about the stitches coming out," Danny remarked. They were in the middle of a car chase, but he figured Steve could multi-task.

"I am happy, Danny," Steve said, deftly maneuvering the Camaro through oncoming traffic. "Can we just shoot the tires out and be done with it?"

"Not in a residential section, Steve, remember what the Governor said?"

"'The next time I have to replace a citizen's car door, it's coming out of your paycheck'," Steve quoted morosely. "Yeah, yeah."

"So why the hamster face?" Danny persisted. "I mean, come on, you don't even have to take time off to go to the clinic anymore, now that you've got your own personal little surgeon living in the house."

"She's a medic, Danny, not a surgeon," Steve said, wincing a bit as he maybe sort of felt a serious ding on the undercarriage. Danny apparently hadn't noticed. Sometimes the arguments were a good distraction for him.

"Still, this is your idea of a romantic evening, I have no doubt. What sort of wine do you pair with removing each other's stitches? I think red would be a bit too obvious." Danny was smirking.

"We're clear of the residential section," Steve said, "Now, can we please shoot this idiot's tires out?"

"When you tell me why you're in a mood," Danny said, crossing his arms resolutely.

"Danny," Steve protested loudly. Danny set his jaw, like he had all day. Steve sighed. "Okay, okay. I have Reserves training this weekend. I had hoped to, you know, plan a nice weekend trip for Jax for when our stitches came out . . . don't look at me that way, Danny, it's been four weeks of caution and strategy and limits-"

"Stop, please just stop and let me shoot something," Danny said, his eyes mildly panicked.

"You asked," Steve groused.

Danny pulled his gun and rolled down the window. "I asked why you were looking like someone had confiscated your flash grenades, I did not ask for . . . wherever you were going with that explanation. Get me close enough and hold the car steady, for crying out loud."

* * *

As it turned out, Jax was content with a Longboard for Operation Stitches Removal.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go see Malia for yours?" Steve asked. "You have that follow-up for your concussion tomorrow, right? She could do it then."

"Would you hold still, please? My appointment is in radiology or something, we'd have to make a trek over to a different floor for stitches . . . not worth it. I'm trying to fit this in on my lunch hour. You've taken out my stitches before; you getting chicken-shit on me now, sailor?" Jax deftly removed the row of stitches on Steve's shoulder. The incision had healed remarkably well, considering that he barely acknowledged the situation.

Steve squirmed a bit. The pulling of the stitches didn't hurt, exactly, but it felt weird.

"Okay, all set. Wow, that barely scarred. The kid did a good job," Jax said, as she pulled out the last stitch. Her deft fingers gently smoothed some antibiotic cream over the now-closed wound, just to be safe. "My turn. Where do you want me?"

Steve smirked. He no longer had to smack his brain into submission at that question.

"For taking your stitches out? Hop up on the counter." Steve wrapped his hands easily around her hips and boosted her up onto the counter, and pulled a stool up, putting him at the perfect level for taking the stitches out of her side. He swallowed hard. This was so much easier on his fellow SEALs.

"Steve," Jax said, running her fingers through his hair gently. "Why is this bugging you? You took the stitches out on my hip, and over my eye. Why now?"

He shrugged. "Things are just different now, Jax. This was . . . God, when we were up on the roof of Tripler and I looked down and saw that wood sticking out of you . . . I was terrified. And I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you."

She framed his face with her small hands and kissed him gently. "You want me to do it?"

"No way," he protested. "It would be too awkward of an angle, you'd hurt yourself. I've got it." He began the painstaking process of cutting and removing the stitches, one at a time. Jax flinched once or twice when a stubborn stitch pulled on the tender skin of her side, but smiled at Steve each time.

"You're fine, it's not hurting," she assured him.

"I'm sorry I have to leave this weekend," he said, working his way to the end of the row.

She shrugged. "It's your Reserves weekend; I understand," she said. "I'm just glad they let you skip last month, what with Chin being in the hospital and everything. You're sure you don't mind Kono coming over?"

"It's absolutely fine, Jax . . . this is your home, remember? You're not a guest here. We unpacked all five of your boxes and everything," he teased.

As he concentrated on the last several stitches, his mind drifted back to the Monday after the shootout at the pier. Chin was still in the hospital, Five-O had been placed in stand-down position, and Jax was on medical leave from HPD. Perfect timing for the five Fed Ex boxes to arrive, containing most of Jax's life from New York. One box contained a French press, a set of amazing knives, and a high end skillet and saucepan; two boxes of simple clothing - cargo pants, boots, and t-shirts; one box of tactical gear (there'd been an extended break in packing after Jax had absently slipped on her fingerless tac gloves and Steve's brain had short-circuited); and one box of books and random items from undercover operations. All in all, it had only taken an hour to integrate her life into his, and by the time Danny showed up with pizza and beer for "moving day, it's what friends do", they were finished.

Steve gently pulled out the final stitch. "There, all set," he said, smoothing an analgesic cream over the wound. His fingers traced over the old scars from her 9/11 injury; the three scars ran close together.

Jax sighed. "This wouldn't have mattered much in New York, but here . . . " she trailed off. "Half the island lives in bikinis. I'll frighten the tourists," she said jokingly, but Steve recognized the insecurity as she chewed her lower lip.

He brushed his thumb over her lip, and then slid his hand along her jaw to tangle in her curls, tilting her head to kiss her soundly.

"Trust me, no one is looking at the scars," he said, his other hand still tracing over them gently.

"Kono's bringing me some special cream this weekend; she swears it does an amazing job," Jax said. "She's going to teach me to surf. I think this is actually the first weekend since I've been on the island that I have no stitches."

Steve groaned. Didn't he know it.

"You're sure you don't mind her staying here?" Jax was asking, once again biting on her lower lip. As adorable as it was, Steve hated the indication of insecurity and uncertainty it represented.

"This. Is. Your. Home." Steve said, punctuating each word with a gentle kiss.

* * *

"Have fun, you know, blowing shit up," Jax mumbled sleepily. It was still dark outside, but she'd wandered out to see Steve off for his reserve weekend. "Stop apologizing for going. It's part of who you are, Steve. And I really like the Navy working uniform."

He laughed and tousled her hair, then bent and kissed her again. "Yeah, you like it?" He asked.

"Hmm. I'll show you how much when you get back," she promised.

He waved at her one more time at the end of the driveway, grinning at the sight of her on his porch, in his Coronado t-shirt, clutching a coffee cup. Reserve weekends were often bittersweet for him; reminding him of what he'd given up when he'd left active duty as a SEAL and taken on the task force. Glancing in his rearview mirror one last time, he felt entirely confident about his decision for the first time since his dad's funeral.

* * *

"Let the girls' weekend commence!" Kono cheered, as she came in the door on Friday evening. "Oh, my gosh, what is that smell?"

"Shrimp scampi," Jax yelled from the kitchen. "You're just in time, come on in."

Kono entered the kitchen as Jax plated up the pasta and shrimp. "I thought we'd eat on the lanai," Jax said, nodding her head out the door, where a bottle of wine with glasses and silverware were waiting.

"This is almost as fun as taking down a stalker," Kono said around a mouthful of shrimp. "How do you and Steve not weigh a ton? Work off the calories?"

Jax blushed furiously while Kono collapsed in gales of laughter. "It's all good, Jax. We're happy for you. Although, when Steve comes into work in the morning humming, Danny gets this strangled look on his face."

"Poor Danny," Jax laughed.

"He's happy, you know," Kono said. "Steve. When Five-O first started, he was many things: focused, intense, driven, bat-shit crazy. Maybe even content, sometimes, when he felt like we did a good job. But his eyes had this empty, sad . . . it's still there, but not as much. And now, lots of times, his eyes are happy."

Jax ducked her head shyly. "I'm sure there are lots of reasons for that," she said, "he loves Five-O. He loves the work. And you guys . . . you're his family."

"Yours too," Kono said. "Which means . . . it's time to teach you to surf. You ready?"

"Definitely," Jax answered. "No stitches, concussion is healing . . . bring it on."

* * *

The next morning was perfect; just enough of a breeze to give the gentle waves on Steve's beach a little kick. Kono declared Jax a natural for surfing . . . something about a low center of gravity, which Jax was pretty sure was a nice way of saying she was short.

Kono and Jax were taking a break, relaxing in the chairs, when they heard Chin's voice behind them.

"Kono? Jax?"

They turned, surprised to see Chin and Grover standing on the beach. Chin was still on crutches and had made his way awkwardly to them, Grover walking soberly alongside. Kono grabbed her phone, looking at it in confusion.

"Cuz, why didn't you call? Do we have a case?" she asked, standing up and grabbing a towel.

"Captain?" Jax asked. Her heart sank. She could only think of one reason that Chin and Grover would come, in person, to find her and Kono. "Is it Danny or Steve?" she asked quietly. "How bad?"

Kono grabbed Jax's hand.

"Steve is okay," Chin said quickly, "but there was an accident this morning during the reserves training. There was an explosion on one of the small cutters. Several sailors are missing; they were part of Steve's team. He's on the dive team."

"Rescue?" Kono asked.

Chin shook his head. "No, at this point we're looking at recovery. But they could use more divers. Are you up for it?"

Kono nodded. "I have gear in the car. Give me five minutes." She immediately jogged toward the house, Chin following slowly on his crutches.

Grover looked at Jax. "They're short-handed; asked if HPD SWAT could bring a medic team in. I figured you'd want to come. But if it's too close, I understand."

"No, I'm good," Jax said. "Give me five, I'll be out right behind Kono."

* * *

They all rode to the scene in grim silence. Chin sent Danny a quick text, but assured him that his time with Gracie shouldn't be interrupted . . . there sadly wasn't anything he could do. Five-O wouldn't even be investigating; it was a Navy situation. Jax gave Kono's hand a quick squeeze before she disappeared to suit up and join the divers.

The sun had set by the time the sobering recovery operation was finished. Jax's HPD medic crew had helped provide coffee and warm blankets as the divers rotated in and out, and treated a few minor cuts and abrasions. Kono had appeared at the truck twice, but Steve had refused to leave the water until the call was made that everything possible had been recovered and the operation was over.

Jax saw Chin handing off a set of keys to Grover. They exchanged a few quiet words, and Jax watched as Grover wrapped Kono, exhausted and dripping, in a blanket. She and Chin walked slowly toward Grover's SUV, as Grover turned back toward Jax.

"You get him home safe, okay? I'll get someone else to cover your shift tomorrow." Grover said, handing Jax the keys to Steve's Silverado, which had obviously been parked in a rush, the toolbox still open where he had grabbed his gear.

Jax curled up on the driver seat and waited. She leaned her head against the headrest, watching as Steve helped the other divers out of their gear. He took the time to speak to each of them; she could tell he was thanking them for their help, looking strong, in control . . . every bit the commander.

As the last diver left and the last piece of wreckage was neatly packaged and hauled away, Steve was left standing alone on the beach. His shoulders dropped, he looked . . . lost. Jax grabbed a blanket and made her way the short distance to him. As she reached him, he squared his shoulders again, until she reached up and cupped his face in her hand.

"Don't," she whispered, wrapping the blanket around him. "Not for me, you don't need to."

His arms went around her waist, and she braced her feet shoulder width apart as he leaned and nestled his head in the crook of her neck.

"Where do you need to go?" she asked quietly, rubbing her fingers through his damp hair. "Do you need to be on the base?"

He shook his head. "No," he said, his voice hoarse with fatigue and emotion. "We've all been cleared to return home."

"Okay, then," Jax said, wrapping an arm around his waist and gently guiding him toward the truck. He woodenly placed one foot in front of the other, his muscles shaking from over-exertion.

He automatically went to the driver's side and reached for the keys, but didn't protest when Jax shook her head and kept steering him toward the passenger side. They rode home in silence, and Jax wasn't surprised to find that Steve had drifted off to sleep by the time she parked the truck in the driveway.

"Steve," she said softly, rubbing his shoulder.

He startled awake. "Yeah," he rasped, rubbing his hands over his face, frowning when he realized his hands were shaking.

Jax reached for him, her hands wrapping around his, strong and steady. Her thumbs traced over his knuckles, bruised and bloody despite the diving gloves.

"Come inside," she said, quietly. She waited for him at the front of the truck, watched as he slowly unfolded himself from the front seat. Her arm went around his waist and he almost-but-not-quite let himself lean on her as they made their way up the walk and into the house.

Jax wordlessly guided him up the stairs and turned the shower on, switching on just a couple of soft lamps in the bedroom and on the landing, and just the single light over the bathroom sink. She gave him a gentle shove and he was seated on the bed, his eyes following her silently as she untied his boots and tugged them off. When she was done, she stepped between his knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him against her.

"Get warmed up, I'll be right back," she murmured in his ear. He moved on autopilot toward the shower, shedding his damp clothes. Jax put out a fresh towel, and his softest gym shorts, before going down to the kitchen.

She returned with two mugs of steaming coffee, placing the one with the generous splash of bourbon on Steve's bedside table, and dropping the first aid kit on the dresser. When he emerged from the shower, his color looked a bit better, and his hands were no longer shaking. He even managed a smile at the sight of Jax in his Annapolis t-shirt, but it was fleeting, and as he met her steady gaze he gave up the pretense of control.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he buried his face in her hair, breathing in the comforting scent, and fisting his hands in the fabric of her t-shirt.

"My God, Jax . . . " he whispered brokenly, as he allowed her to lead him to the bed and once again push him down gently.

"Here," she said, pressing the coffee into his hands. He looked at it skeptically, and then inhaled the aroma of bourbon and took an appreciative sip.

Jax expertly maneuvered him so that he was sitting propped up against the headboard. He wasn't entirely sure how she was managing to so easily arrange his six plus feet of dead weight, but he wasn't complaining. She grabbed the kit and joined him on the bed, sitting cross-legged in the middle.

"How many?" she asked, her voice quiet, as she began her mission of gently applying analgesic cream to the cuts and scrapes scattered over his body.

"Three," he answered. "I'll have to write letters . . . no, I should call. Should I call? Their families? Or a letter. I don't . . . "

"It's okay, you'll think about that tomorrow, okay? You don't have to decide that right now," she said, applying a couple of steri-strips to a particularly nasty cut.

"Yeah . . . yeah, okay," he said, his voice completely wrecked with emotion.

"Did you know them well?" she asked, taking one of his hand in hers and tenderly applying cream to his battered knuckles.

He nodded, setting his coffee aside and reaching for her. She dropped the tube of cream to the side and allowed him to pull her into his lap, wrapping her arms around him as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. She traced her hands softly over his shoulders.

"I have no idea what happened," he said brokenly, his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke. "They're experts, their training is impeccable . . . it had to be mechanical error, that's the only explanation . . . there was no warning, everything was going fine and then . . . there was just this massive . . . I don't know what happened . . . "

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his scalp. "Sometimes, it doesn't matter . . . you can do everything perfectly, absolutely everything. And you can't stop it; you can't stop it from happening."

She felt him nod against her, his arms holding her desperately, as if she was the only solid and sure thing between him and drowning. As she felt his breathing start to level out, she carefully extricated herself from his grip and once again somehow managed to easily shift his large frame until he was under the covers, half asleep from exhaustion. He reached for her and she curled into him.

"This isn't at all what I had in mind for this weekend," he mumbled, tracing his thumb over her cheek. "I wanted to take you somewhere . . . this isn't a life for you, Jax . . . "

"Shh," she said, pressing her finger against his mouth. "I chose this life. I chose SWAT, and HPD, and Hawaii, and you. I _choose_ all of it, okay?"

He drifted off, his hand curled around her hip, tracing the familiar scar even in his sleep.

* * *

When Danny stopped by late the next morning, bearing steaming cups of coffee and a box from the bakery, he found the two of them sitting at Steve's desk. Jax smiled at him tiredly over the rims of her glasses. She had dark circles under her eyes that rivaled Steve's, but there was a look of peace on both of their faces as Steve sealed the last of three envelopes.


	26. Field Trip 1

The schedule of an HPD SWAT officer and an elite task-force leader didn't line up perfectly, but Steve wasn't complaining as he pulled into his driveway early one evening. Jax had pulled an odd weekend shift and therefore had this random Tuesday off, and apparently she'd spent a good part of it working on the Marquis, if the parts laid out neatly on a table in the garage were any indication.

She'd turned when she heard his truck rumble into the drive, and smiled at Steve as he climbed out. He grinned appreciatively at the sight of her in cut off shorts and a simple tank, liberally spattered in grease.

"Rough day at the office?" she asked, pointing her wrench at a bruise forming on his jaw.

"Oh, yeah, we finally caught up to that guy we suspected of planting cameras in hotel rooms," Steve said, absently rubbing at the sore spot. "He tried to bolt down the emergency staircase. Clipped me with a fire extinguisher. How's the fuel injection coming along?"

"Duck next time. It's coming. I'm having to clean the residue off all of these parts, but they're in great shape," she said, indicating one pile of parts. "These parts will be replaced with the new system," she added, pointing to another.

"Let me help for a while," Steve said, grabbing a rag. "There's a surprise for you in a little bit."

Jax grinned and debated trying to wheedle the information out of Steve, but then shrugged and went back to cleaning, glancing at him curiously every now and then. They worked together, making steady progress on the parts, until Steve got completely distracted by a particular smudge of oil on her collarbone. The feel of her skin under his lips made him forget about the surprise he'd planned, until he heard Danny's voice behind him.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Danny grumbled good-naturedly. He'd changed into jeans and an old t-shirt, and came into the garage bearing a large bag that smelled delicious.

"Danny!" Jax exclaimed, extricating her limbs, which had been tangled around Steve, and hopping off the table. Steve filed away the knowledge that the work table was exactly the right height . . .

"Are you happy to see me, or the moco loco?" Danny asked, as Jax enthusiastically peered into the bag.

"Both," she declared, "I'm starving."

"Head around back," Steve said, "I'll be out in a minute with drinks."

He stood for a moment on the lanai, enjoying the sight of Jax and Danny. Between their irregular work schedules and Danny's time with Grace, the two didn't get to see much of each other, and every time together was filled with animated - very, very animated - discussion and catching up. When Steve had realized that an early day for Five-O had landed on a day off for Jax, he'd quickly arranged for Danny to spend the evening with them, knowing how much it would mean to them both.

"And so," Danny was saying, as Steve joined them, "thanks to Gracie's petition, the field trip tomorrow is not to the zoo with poor practices, but to the smaller, almost unheard of, animal rehabilitation facility. And I get to chaperone a dozen pre-teen girls."

"Here's to Gracie," Steve said, as they clinked their bottles together, "our own little defender of animal rights."

Shortly after dinner, Jax declared that she was too filthy to even go in the house, and started walking toward the water.

"I see Kono's been an influence," Danny joked, as Jax shed her shorts and tank at the edge of the water, revealing the bikini which had her ready to swim at a moment's notice.

Steve laughed. "Except for the tendency to sunburn, you'd think she'd lived here her whole life," he said, tilting his head appreciatively as she dove under the water.

"She's happy, Steve," Danny said quietly. "I was so distracted . . . she managed to fool me, back in Jersey. I tried to check in with her, you know, she came over every holiday, on Gracie's birthdays . . . I made sure to go check on her every damn time she ended up in the hospital, but it wasn't enough for me to see how bad things were in NYPD for her. She put up a good front, but this is the Jax I knew as a rookie, before 9/11, before everything went to shit. I should have noticed the difference."

Steve reached over and squeezed Danny's shoulder. "You did the best you could, Danny. She came to you, remember? After O'Neil . . . she came to you for help. She knew you had her back, and that's what matters."

"O'Neil . . ." Danny shook his head. The whole scenario seemed like a nightmare . . . "How's she doing with that, really?" His blue eyes locked onto Steve; not accusing, but allowing for nothing but complete honesty.

"You know I will never hurt her, Danny," Steve said. He needed to get that straight, right up front. "She spooks every now and then. I've learned not to come up behind her, especially if she's tired and distracted. There's nightmares, still."

"How bad?" Danny asked quietly.

"I almost called you last Tuesday," Steve admitted. "I couldn't . . . she was so disoriented, it took her a long time to recognize me. I see why it took three guys to subdue her," he added. He looked to make sure Jax wasn't looking their way, and then lifted the hem of his t-shirt to show Danny a series of bruises scattered across his torso.

"Shit, Steve," Danny sighed. "I wondered why you haven't been ripping off your shirt at every available opportunity this week . . . you know, you can call me, babe, day or night."

"I know, Danny, and I will, in a heartbeat, if she needs you. You know that."

"Or if _you_ need me, Steve. If you need to talk, whatever. The two of you . . . between you, there's enough trauma and PTSD to keep a therapist's kids in college, and neither of you are good at asking for help or sharing your feelings. I'm glad you've got each other - really, really glad, all kidding aside - but I suspect you're both still trying to protect each other."

Steve's silence told Danny he'd guessed it right.

"So," Danny continued, "you know, make sure you're okay. That's one of the best things you can do for her."

Steve nodded. "Thanks, Danno," he said.

"The voice of reason, McGarrett, the voice of reason. I don't know what you people would do without me," Danny replied, lightening the mood. Jax was coming out of the water, pausing at the chairs to collect her clothes. "Is that . . . " Danny squinted in the fading light.

"Yep," Steve confirmed, smirking slightly. "Jake's firehouse number."

"Wow," Danny said, glancing sideways at Steve. "And Billy's - her brother's firehouse number, you know."

"True, they were in the same house, but come on," Steve said, "I'm kinda doubting that the nineteen year old Jax put ink _there_ for her brother."

"And you're . . . it doesn't bother you a bit, does it," Danny realized. There was no trace of jealousy in Steve's voice or on his face, and Danny was good at reading Steve's many faces.

"No way, Danny," Steve shook his head, watching Jax fondly as she walked toward them. "You don't compete with a memory like that, you just honor it, and thank your lucky stars that you're considered worthy to come after."

"That is a remarkably healthy and well-developed sense of perspective, my friend," Danny said, raising his bottle to Steve.

"Who are we drinking to?" Jax asked, as she reached them, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her shoulders, then picking up her bottle from dinner.

Steve reached out and pulled her close to him, his thumb tracing over the ink.

"To Billy and Jake," he said, without hesitation. She smiled down at him and slipped into his lap, clinking her bottle against his and then Danny's.

"To the boys," she said quietly, as he hugged her close, and she nestled her head against his shoulder.

The three enjoyed the sunset and more conversation until Steve realized that Jax was shivering slightly.

"Okay, you're getting cold," he said. "Coffee?"

Jax lit up at the idea as Steve stood, still holding her easily in his arms, and Danny threw his hands up in defense. "And that would be my cue to leave. It was coffee that started this whole thing . . . "

"Goodnight, Danny, good to see you, bye, lock the door on your way out," Jax said, unable to resist teasing him.

He did, indeed, lock the door on his way out, smiling at the sounds of comfortable laughter behind him.

()()()()()()()()

Steve looked up from his desk as Kono came running out of her office. She flicked the computer console and footage from a local new station appeared on the screen. A single reporter was standing in front of a heavily foliaged building.

Steve and Chin were already on their feet and heading toward the center of the room, as Kono increased the volume on the news report.

"Sources say that a small group of children from Academy of the Sacred Heart have been taken hostage at gunpoint inside this animal rehabilitation facility. The identity of the gunman, as well as the exact number and identity of the hostages, is unknown. Stay tuned for breaking news."

"Didn't Danny say . . . " Kono looked at Steve.

"That's Gracie's school," Steve said, staring numbly at the screen. He'd just talked to Danny about this trip, how was this possible? He quickly shifted into mission mode.

"Try Danny's phone, Kono. Okay, lone reporter, we haven't gotten a call yet from HPD, let's assume that the gunman was the one to tip off the media. That, combined with the report that there's hostages, but not injuries or fatalities, tells me he wants something. People who want something can usually be negotiated with," Steve said.

Just then his phone rang, loud and angry in the quiet room.

"McGarrett. Hold on, Captain, let me put you on speaker," Steve said, thumbing his phone and laying it on the console.

"We've got a hostage situation at the Aumakua Center," Grover said.

"Yeah, Kono caught it on the news," Steve answered.

"Already? I got the call thirty seconds ago. Okay, so our guy tipped off the media first. That usually bodes well for us," Grover said.

"Any contact from anyone inside?" Steve asked, although he knew what the answer would be. Danny would have contacted him if there had been any way possible. He didn't let his mind wander to worst case scenarios.

"Nothing from the gunman or the hostages. Duke's people are calling the school to set up a liaison," Grover said.

"Grover, we have every reason to believe Danny is either among the hostages or inside the center. That's Gracie's school; she had a trip to the Aumakua Center today, and Danny was chaperoning," Steve said.

There was a beat of silence. "You're absolutely sure?" Grover asked.

"Well, as of yesterday evening that was his plan," Steve answered, gesturing to Kono's phone in an unspoken question. She shook her head. "And he's not answering our calls so we have to assume he's still inside. Possibly without a phone." He didn't mention the other possibilities out loud.

"Gear up and meet up at the center," Grover said. "We will take two units each of HPD and SWAT for the time being. I'll have Nolan ride with me and brief her on the way."

Steve, Kono, and Chin moved smoothly into action, and within fifteen minutes, their gear had been loaded and they sped toward the center. Kono started to take her usual spot in Chin's SUV, but he put a hand on her arm and nodded in Steve's direction.

"I'm thinking Steve shouldn't ride alone to this one, Kono," he said. She nodded, and jogged quickly over to Steve's truck, swinging herself into the passenger seat.

"It's going to work out okay,Boss," she said firmly. "Let's go get Danny and Grace out of there."

()()()()()()()()

Danny had been thoroughly enjoying the outing. It was a small group, just twelve of the girls who had received special permission for this trip based on a research project in their science class, so only two parents had been asked to chaperone. Danny had met Alicia Summers on another school trip, and they were enjoying the morning with their daughters and their friends.

The center consisted of a large welcome center and a few smaller buildings, on a sprawling twenty acre plot of heavily foliaged land. Sick or new animals were housed in the welcome center, where they received veterinary treatment. Animals that could not survive in the wild due to previous injury or conditioning stayed within the fenced acreage. The group had enjoyed an hour of walking along the trail, using binoculars to try to spot some of the animals, and they had stopped in one of the small buildings to enjoy some exhibits and educational videos.

Alicia and six of the girls were preparing to exit the building, when Gracie and two more of Danny's charges informed him that they were in need of a restroom break before moving on.

"I'll go ahead and take the other three with me, Danny," Alicia offered. "We'll walk slowly and you can catch up with us."

"Sounds good," Danny agreed. "Okay, girls," he said, turning back to Gracie and her friends. "You go ahead to the restroom, I will be right here. Remember, stay together. Go in to the restroom together and come back out all together, okay?" He hated that he had to make them feel cautious, especially in such a lovely environment, but such was modern parenting.

He stood close outside the restroom door, reading the poster on monkeys, but close enough that he could see anyone entering or exiting the restroom. He smiled at the three girls as they came out together, just as instructed.

"All set? Okay, let's go - according to this sign, next up is a pond which should attract some especially colorful birds," Danny said, leading the way to the exit.

The door wouldn't open.

"Hunh," he said, pressing against it harder and gently jostling the handle.

"Are you sure it doesn't say 'pull', Danno?" Gracie asked.

"Very funny, Monkey," Danny laughed. He tried pulling, just in case. Still nothing.

"Let's go try this other door," one of the girls suggested, and they went to the door marked 'employees only'.

Nothing. The door wouldn't budge.

The room wasn't terribly small, but it wasn't exactly spacious. And it was dark; dark enough to enjoy the videos. To accommodate groups of talkative school children, the floors and a good part of the walls were covered in industrial grade, heavy-duty, low-pile carpet. The kind that absorbed sound and made the walls feel like they could close in . . .

' _Get a grip, Williams_ ', Danny chided himself, as he felt his claustrophobic anxiety start to wind into his consciousness. ' _The room is plenty roomy, with air conditioning and running water_.'

Danny pulled out his cell phone to call the main building. No reception - not even a flicker. Whether it was the remote location or the heavily insulated building, he wasn't sure, but the result was the same either way.

"Girls," he said calmly, "my phone doesn't get reception here. Please check your phones. Maybe one of you has a better plan," he quipped. The girls giggled and all dutifully pulled out their phones.

Although he hadn't expected any of them to have signal, he couldn't help but feel more alarmed and discouraged when the three girls shook their pig-tailed and pony-tailed heads in the negative.

"Okay, well, good thing all three of you are in Aloha Girls, too, isn't it? We can forage in here easily. If only all of our camping facilities had air conditioning, electricity, and nice bathrooms," he said, smiling at the girls, who beamed back at him. "Let me just take a look at these doors; maybe they are on a timer or something. Either way, Ms. Summers will head back this way, I'm sure, when she realizes we aren't behind her. You girls look at the exhibits some more, but stay right with me, okay?"

Three little heads nodded again, and Danny was pleased to see that they dutifully stood together and read the exhibit right next to the first door, while he checked and double checked the door to no avail.

Danny sighed in frustration. He couldn't even shoot the door, having complied with the centers no exceptions, no weapons policy. His standard issue and his backup were both securely locked in his glovebox. After checking both doors for any hidden locks or latches, and throwing himself against them until he was sure his hip and shoulder were black and blue, Danny sighed in resignation.

"Well, girls, we are sure to be experts in monkeys and marsupials," he said. "We will wait for Ms. Summers to realize we're not here, and then I'm sure she will open the door from the outside or alert the nice folks in the main building. It's probably a mechanical glitch."

()()()()()()()()

"Ms. Summers, thank God," the harried looking guide said, rushing to her group on the trail back from the pond.

"We were heading back to the monkey and marsupial building," Alicia said, "Danny and three of the girls stayed back to use the restroom, and they should have been right behind us. What's happening?"

"There's a situation. I'm taking you and these girls out of the park. We're actually close to an external exit; if you'll just follow me. No need to run or panic, but let's explain when we get out, okay? Girls, just quietly and quickly, on this path . . . there we go, excellent."

Alicia looked at the guide but could tell this was not a situation to discuss in front of nine pre-teen girls, so she simply smiled encouragingly at the girls and helped quickly escort them away.

()()()()()()()()

Frank Pearson smiled to himself as he heard the violent thuds against the door. It had been incredibly simple to put his plan into place, although he was a bit surprised when he'd discovered that one of the chaperones for this trip was a dude. Probably one of those enlightened, sensitive, stay-at-home dad types, he'd mused.

It would have been even better if he could have trapped the whole group inside, but it had taken him a little longer than he'd expected to make his way from his dingy basement laboratory to this outbuilding, activating the dozens of booby traps he'd spent weeks setting up along the paths. The largest part of the group had moved on before he could reach the electrical box of the outbuilding and short-circuit the emergency locks. No worries, though, he had the dad and three little girls. Four hostages should be plenty.

The news reporter had already broken the story, since he'd had the foresight to place the call before he'd even left his lab. He smiled, knowing that she'd probably been on camera just about the time that he'd locked his hostages in the building. By now, the place was probably crawling with SWAT and HPD, and then with the lady chaperone and those other nine girls no doubt being rushed to safety, the footage was probably very dramatic. Maybe it was just fine that they'd managed to get away, come to think of it. He hadn't heard any screams, so they must have been smart enough to get them out through the service path; the one he himself planned to take.

Frank whistled tunelessly as he placed brick after brick of C4 around the small building, connecting each brick to the next with wire which he ultimately inserted into a control box with a keypad. He'd managed to turn the entire building into a giant explosive device. Smiling to himself, he placed the call to the district attorney.

()()()()()()()()

"You're kidding," Grover was saying in disbelief, as Steve, Kono, and Chin raced up to him in the parking lot of the center. "Well obviously you can't comply with his demands, ma'am, I understand that. Yes, I'll have our negotiator speak as if he's with your office, I agree that's the safest route. We'll try to get the situation under control through different means, while the negotiator buys us as much time as possible."

"What have we got, Grover?" Steve demanded.

Grover rubbed his hand over his face in disbelief. "Okay, well, it's not a gunman, for starters. That was a bit of misinformation to get us started off-kilter from minute one. We have a lab technician who's about to be implicated in an animal poaching and smuggling case. Trial starts tomorrow; our guy, Frank Pearson, knows that his former partner in this little venture is going to name him in a plea-bargain. He has Danny, Gracie, and two other girls locked down in a small outbuilding; heavily insulated and cell-signal blocked. Says the building is wired with C4, the only way to disarm the explosive is with a code that he will provide only when he has papers in hand granting him full and complete immunity.."

"Can't they just drop the case? It's animals," Steve argued. "I mean, the whole poaching and selling of exotic animals makes me sick, but that's nothing compared to the lives of Danny, Gracie, and those girls."

"I agree, Steve, but this is the first of a series of seven trials over the course of the next thirty days. FBI and ATF took down a huge ring. We let Pearson bully his way out of this, we set ourselves up for a chain reaction of violence," Grover explained. "Besides, I didn't think you negotiated with hostages."

"I'll negotiate with anyone for Danny and Gracie," Steve said simply. "But you're right. We can't risk this seven more times. Okay, so let's take a unit in, get the bomb squad in there."

"Not so fast," Grover said, holding up his hand. Kono huffed in frustration, and Chin placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Pearson claims that he has eyes on the building; we go in, he blows it," Grover said.

Kono looked to Steve in alarm.

"Okay, then," Steve said. "I go in, alone, and locate and disable whatever visual he has on the building."

Grover looked at him skeptically.

"Come on, Lou, what do you think I did for all those years in the SEALs and in Naval Intelligence? We can only stall this guy for so long before he figures out he's not going to get what he wants. He doesn't sound like the picture of stability to begin with. We can't sit on our asses and wait for this to go sideways," Steve argued.

"We're going in with you," Chin said.

"I know you would in a heartbeat," Steve answered, "but trust me, this is a one-man operation. You and Kono, please see if you can establish some kind of communication with Danny, see if you can somehow get past the signal blocking of the building. And see if you can dig up anything useful on this Pearson guy. I'll be on the SAT radio, the usual frequency, if you get anything for me."

They nodded and jogged off in the direction of the communications vehicle. Steve began pulling his gear out of the toolboxes on the back of his truck. Grover glanced at his and shook his head; none of that boy's gear was remotely police-issue.

"Is Jax on site?" Steve asked, filling his pockets with assorted cutting and clamping tools.

"She is," Grover nodded. "She's geared up for medic. You want to speak with her?"

"No, thanks though, Lou; would you just keep her in the loop on my team? And keep her updated on Danny. She's going to be worried, he's family to her," Steve said, smearing camo paint on his face and slapping down the various velcro straps on his jungle pattern kevlar. He slid a huge combat knife into his boot with a satisfying swoosh. "Her partner here today? The one that helped Chin?"

"Ah, Officer Todeka Halia," Grover remembered. "He is not, as it happens. He's transferring to a nice civilian job. Baby number three is on the way and his wife convinced him to give up SWAT."

Steve nodded. "Can't say I don't understand," he said. "Jax will be disappointed; he was a stand-up guy."

"He was indeed. She's finding her way, though; he paved the way for some of the knee-jerk resentment and prejudice to go away, but she's proving herself. It'll be fine."

Steve checked the safety on the last of the three sidearms he'd selected, and shoved extra clips into his pockets. "Okay, get me a schematic of the compound and I'm going in."

Grover looked at him mildly. "You're requesting a map of the animal rehab center, right?"

"Yeah," Steve said, ducking his head. "Sorry. Some old habits die hard."

"I get it, son. You just make sure there's nothing else dying hard today, got it?"

()()()()()()()()

Steve wouldn't deny a certain thrill at the hum of adrenaline coursing through his body as he crept through the dense foliage. He was staying off the path; close enough to see it, to guide his direction to the outbuilding, but not walking directly on the smoothly worn mulch and stone walkway.

He had made it almost half-way to the outbuilding when the ground suddenly shifted beneath him. There was a sickening feel of nothingness under his feet, and he instinctively grabbed at a patch of thick, vine-like ground cover, desperately wrapping it around his wrist as he felt his body pitch downward into empty space.

He was aware of two things halting his fall; one, the vines which he had managed to not only secure in his grip, but also loop around his wrist securely. So securely, in fact, that the sudden dead weight of his body dropping into a hole pulled his shoulder neatly out of the socket. Just as the explosion of pain registered in the synapses of his brain, his body collided with the side of the hole and a sharp spike embedded itself in his calf.

Steve rested against the recently dug pit, the smell of damp earth filling his senses. He looked down, first, and saw a half-dozen or more spikes jabbed in to the side of the hole, with more sticking up dangerously from the bottom. Drops of blood were dropping onto the rudely carved spikes; the wood still light enough to indicate that they'd been placed recently. Willing away the vertigo, he looked up, to see the roughly woven cover of leaves and twigs which had adequately camouflaged the pit.

Taking a deep breath, he implemented all of the pain management techniques his SEAL training had afforded him, wrenched his leg away from the spike, and pulled himself up with his good arm. He took only a moment to try to catch his breath; spurred on by both his determination to complete his mission, and the knowledge that he needed to tend to his injuries quickly in order to even have that option.

Swallowing hard against the nausea brought on by the insult to his body, he used his good leg and arm to scoot up against the trunk of a large tree. He gingerly used his good hand to try to apply counter-pressure to put his shoulder back in place - no luck. Taking a deep breath, he struck the dislocated shoulder with as much strength as he could summon against the tree - it was a method that had worked once, in North Korea, but apparently the odds weren't in his favor today. He hung his head down and panted, as his vision grayed out from pain and he struggled to remain conscious.

With his good hand, he rummaged in his pockets for supplies. He awkwardly opened a canteen, and took a few carefully measured swallows, then gritted his teeth and poured some over the puncture wound on his leg, washing away some of the dirt. Of course, some of the dirt washed further into the wound, but there wasn't much he could do. He hoped that the significant bleeding was flushing the worst of the dirt out. Using his teeth and his good hand, he ripped open a QuikClot gauze packet and pressed it into the wound. He tried, and failed, at wrapping a roll of gauze around the wound one-handed, and settled instead for applying pressure.

A few moment of solemn assessment brought him to one inevitable conclusion: he was going to have to radio for help. He knew who was best suited for the job, and why, and after several minutes of arguing with himself, he picked up the radio. At least Danny wasn't in a position to yell at him.


	27. Field Trip 2

Chin thumbed the switch on the radio.

"Steve, what do you have?" he said, as Kono and Grover looked on with interest. They hadn't expected to hear from him quite so soon.

" _Pearson has the place booby trapped. I've been injured. I'm gonna have to have some help. Unless you've got Pearson in custody, that would certainly be expedient."_

"No luck on Pearson. We've locked down the lab, set a perimeter, but we're talking twenty acres of dense terrain, and the first priority is to secure the hostages," Grover said.

"We'll come in," Kono volunteered quickly. "Tell us what to bring, what you need."

" _Negative. I'm going to need a medic, guys."_

There was a beat of silence.

" _Grover, I need you to send Jax in. She's tactical and field trained."_

Kono paused. Steve must be seriously injured if he needed that level of training; and if he was willing to risk Jax's safely.

"She'll be pleased that you're confident in her skills and not being a chauvinist pig, brah, but are you sure?" Kono asked.

They could hear a pained chuckle.

" _I could end up with worse injuries if I didn't ask for her, when she's the right person for the job. If Pearson set more traps, he would have done so with the assumption that anyone coming through here is average height and weight for HPD or SWAT. She's small and she's light. She actually stands a better chance to avoid the hazards than anyone else."_

"And you're seriously injured enough that you need a field medic," Chin said quietly into the radio.

Another beat of silence.

" _Yeah. Dislocated my shoulder, can't get it back in. I need both hands to disable the video and try to disarm the explosives. Set her up with jungle gear from my truck, yeah? And a radio."_

Chin raised his eyebrows skeptically. It was highly unlikely that the shoulder was the extent of Steve's injuries, but he knew it was pointless to press for more information.

Grover had already motioned for Jax, and she quickly made her way to the group.

"What's up, Captain?" she said, and listened carefully for her orders.

()()()()()()()()

"Okay, I'm on my way in," Jax said, adjusting the earpiece to the radio that would connect her with Steve.

"Pearson must have anticipated that if someone came in, they would avoid the path. The hole was about two yards off. So, stick to the path, but watch every step. Take your time. Look for anything unusual, out of place - especially anything that looks too perfect," Steve's reply came back, his voice familiar and comforting in her ear.

"How are you holding up?" she asked quietly.

"I'm good, Jax, just need more than I can do one-handed," he assured her.

She made her way carefully down the path, most of her focus on the ground in front of her, but also listening for Steve's breathing, and the tell-tale sounds of shallow respiration, sometimes hitching in pain.

Steve heard her mutter as she encountered a trip wire. "Okay, I have a wire stretched across the path. Tell me what to do."

"Look carefully in front of the wire. Anything look at all unusual on the other side of it? Anything displaced, or too smooth looking?"

"Negative."

"Okay, then carefully step over the wire. Listen for any sounds or clicks when you put your foot down on the other side," he advised.

She did as instructed. "Nothing; no sounds, nothing shifty."

"Okay, you should be fine. Probably about five more minutes of careful walking, you'll be to me. Look a couple yards to your right."

Sure enough, in a few minutes, she heard his voice, both in her ear and beyond.

"You're right at me, Jax," he said, his voice a bit bemused.

She flipped her radio off. "Shit, Steve, you went full apocalypse now," she groused, gesturing at the way he blended so thoroughly into the foliage. Except, of course, for the obvious blood-soaked gauze.

"You aren't exactly in blaze orange," he pointed out. Chin had followed Steve's instructions, and while Jax still had on her usual black cargo pants and boots, her Kevlar and backpack were from Steve's gear, and her fair skin had been covered in a long-sleeve t-shirt and face paint; her red hair tucked securely into one of Steve's covers.

 _Frickin' awesome,_ his brain supplied, before he reminded himself that this really, really wasn't the place or time.

She approached him carefully, whistling as she peered over the edge of the hand-dug pit just feet away from where he had propped himself against the tree.

"Protocol indicates I address the bleeding first," she commented, setting her pack carefully on the ground next to him.

"Maybe, but I want this damn shoulder put back," he groused, trying and failing to lift the affected hand.

"Figured as much," she sighed, her strong, capable fingers probing the dislocated joint. "Damn it, Steve, you tried knocking this back in with blunt force, didn't you," she scolded. "Thanks for making my job harder."

He grinned at her unrepentantly.

"You're all alike, you know, all brawn, no -"

Steve gasped in pain as she expertly relocated the joint. She'd distracted him with her tirade and caught him off-guard, so that he wouldn't tense his muscles in anticipation of the pain and make the joint even less cooperative.

"Good technique," he gritted out between clenched teeth, panting through the pain. She pulled his head gently toward her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles at the nape of his neck with one hand, and pressing her other hand gently against the freshly set joint. He closed his eyes and rested his head against her while he regained control of his breathing.

"Okay," he said, lifting his head up. He made a few tentative movements with his arm, nodding in satisfaction. It was going to ache like the devil for a while, but as soon as they got back on track and moving toward the objective, he knew that he would be able to put the pain completely out of his mind.

Same would go for the puncture wound on his calf, although at the moment, it burned like one - or more - of the many levels of hell, as Jax removed the gauze, cleaned it, and expertly wrapped it in a pressure bandage.

"I don't think this can even be stitched," she grumbled, "but we have to get you to some strong antibiotics as soon as possible."

"Thanks," Steve murmured quietly, tucking two fingers under Jax's chin and tilting her face up to make eye contact with him.

She smiled, her green eyes sparkling. "Thanks for letting me do my job," she said.

"There was no doubt in my mind, you were best suited," he said. "Don't think for one minute that I like the idea of you out here in this maniac's playground, though. I want you to go back."

She shook her head resolutely. "And what happens if you get hurt again? It takes me all that time to double back, and that's time wasted getting to Danny and Gracie. No way, Steven."

He sighed. Her logic was sound. He didn't have to like it, but he had to agree with her.

"Okay, but you stay on my six, you got it?"

They continued to make their way toward the outbuilding. Steve was on high alert for more traps, and managed to spot and avoid two more. The building was within sight when he heard a snap that raised the hair on the back of his neck and had his instincts screaming.

He barely had time to quietly command Jax to hit the deck; she did so, instantly, flattening herself on the path without hesitation or question along with Steve, as a huge log swung violently through the air over their heads. Steve reached out a hand and pressed her head down, concerned that she would forget the tendency for large objects hung from high vantage points to behave like pendulums. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he grinned sheepishly. When the log finally came to a stop against the side of the path, Steve signalled to her to stay put, and carefully righted himself. When it seemed clear, Jax stood, just as carefully.

"I take it Danny and Gracie and the girls are in that building," she said quietly, nodding toward the building, now visible through the trees.

"Yeah. Pearson claims he has visual of the building. He may or may not, I need to confirm," Steve explained, carefully scanning the surrounding area, particularly the trees. "There," he said, pointing at a small camera aimed at the building. He continued to look carefully, but could not spot another device.

"Okay, I'm going to climb up and put a loop into the video," he explained, pulling a small device out of his pocket, along with wire strippers and cutters.

"Climb. Up a tree. With a freshly relocated shoulder and a puncture wound," Jax observed.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do," he said mildly. "I've done this with gunshot wounds, I think I can do it with a sore shoulder and a scratch on my leg."

"Okay, sailor, have it your way," Jax said, crossing her arms and looking at him with fond exasperation.

He managed, but barely. Between his shoulder and his leg, there wasn't a moment of the endeavor that wasn't filled with pain. He succeeded in splicing the video loop into the camera, but by the time he reached the ground, his teeth were gritted in pain and he was panting shallowly.

Jax wordlessly handed him a water bottle and a few Motrin, which he accepted gratefully. After taking several swigs, he took a deep breath. It was tempting to rush toward the building, but Steve knew that the closer they were, the more likely they would be to encounter another hazard.

" _Steve, we have Pearson in custody,"_ Grover's voice came over the radio. " _One problem, though: he says if he can't have his life back, the hostages will lose theirs. He's refusing to give us the code. Chin and Kono offered to . . . persuade him . . . but there's no way to know if he's giving us a good code or setting the thing to explode."_

"Copy that," Steve said wearily. "At least you have him. I'll see what the device looks like, let you know if I can disarm it."

They continued to move cautiously toward the building. It took several more painstaking, impatient moments, but they finally arrived at the building. Motioning for Jax to stay back slightly, Steve cautiously approached the keypad device wired into the C4 surrounding the building.

The metallic pinging sound was faint; so faint that they barely heard it, but yet so out of place in the surroundings that it instantly caught their attention. Their eyes were focused on the screen of the keypad, which had gone from blank to a set of flashing numbers; but Jax felt and heard the disturbance of air and instinctively rushed forward, pushing Steve to the ground.

The pressure plate which had activated the keypad into a countdown timer had also released Pearson's final trap, and as Jax pushed Steve aside, the log crashed endwise into her lower back, knocking her down on top of him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her and turned so that his body was over hers, the log grazing over his back as it swung back from its extension. He raised his heavily booted foot to stop its pendulum momentum.

"Jax, what the hell were you thinking," he scolded, running his hands over her frantically.

"Get off me," she gritted out, pointing her hand to the keypad above them. "Numbers. Going backwards. I can't make them stop, you can; thus I didn't want the log to take you out. Danny . . . get Danny and Gracie out of there, I'm fine."

She pushed at him with both hands. "Steve, you have to disarm that. I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me."

Steve glanced at her again but then turned his attention to the keypad, which was counting down rapidly; less than two minutes on the timer. He grabbed his tools from his pocket, and furrowing his brow in concentration, began to examine the device. Sighing in relief at the relative simplicity of the wiring, he carefully but decisively started cutting the wires. Within a moment, the keypad blinked and went blank again.

"I've got it," he said, turning to Jax. She nodded and gave him a thumbs up from where she was leaning against a tree, her hand on her lower back, trying to catch her breath. Turning his attention back to the door, he frowned when it wouldn't open. He knocked on it.

"Danny?!" He called.

"Steve, thank God," Danny replied. Steve could hear him pushing on the door from the inside.

"Danno, hold on, I think the doors have electronic locks," Steve said, running his hand around the door frame. Glancing down the side of the building, he saw the electrical box. It was a simple matter to see which breaker had been flipped, and he flicked it back into place, then rushed back to the door. He opened it carefully, checking for yet more wires, but it seemed that Pearson had not expected anyone to get this far along, and the door was clear. He pulled it open.

"Uncle Steve!" Gracie cried, launching herself into his arms.

"Hey, kiddo," Steve said, wrapping his good arm securely around her shoulders, bending and kissing the top of her head. "You okay? DId you keep your dad and your friends safe?"

"We got locked in the building," Gracie explained, her chocolate brown eyes wide.

"Um, Steve . . . " Danny was looking pale and pointing to the keypad, with its wires dangling now uselessly.

"It's a long story, Danny," Steve said, with a look that said he would explain it when they didn't have three little girls hanging on their every word.

" _Steve, we've got an exit strategy for you,"_ Chin's voice came over the radio. " _The other chaperone and nine girls, and apparently Pearson, all came out a service path close to your location. It's a simple matter of following the visitor path to the pond, and then the employees only path will bring you out safely. What's the word on the explosives?"_

"Explosives are neutralized, I have Danny and the girls right here," Steve said. "We'll head your way, thanks, Chin."

Danny was helping the girls gather their backpacks, beyond relieved to be free of the small building. Jax made her way over to them.

"You okay, babe? You're limping," Danny observed, his brow crinkling in concern. "Let me take your pack."

She waved him off. "I'm fine, Danny, just got the wind knocked out of me a bit." She did relinquish her pack to him, though.

"I'll take point, just to be safe," Steve said. "Jax, you keep the girls close to you, follow me. Danny, cover our six, yeah?" Steve smirked when Danny held out his hand for a weapon, and gave him one of his back-ups.

Everyone nodded and headed down the path. Danny was so relieved to be out of the enclosed space that he couldn't even find fault with the warm sun filtering through the trees. He smiled as he saw Gracie take Jax's hand as they walked behind Steve. He could see that Steve was limping, and saw a bandage through a jagged tear in his pants. Jax looked like she was still limping a bit, and maybe favoring some ribs. He wondered what sort of trouble they'd encountered - he had assumed from Steve's loaded glance that he might not want to ask in front of Gracie.

They soon reached the pond and Steve pointed out the path marked 'employees only' and led the way. They were almost to the end of the path, and could hear activity just up ahead, when Jax paused, and Gracie tugged gently on her hand.

"Aunt Jax? I think we're supposed to follow Uncle Steve," she said uncertainly.

As Danny grew closer to Jax and the girls, who had all come to a stop on the path, he saw Jax yanking on the velcro straps of her Kevlar vest. Gracie turned around to look at him, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Danno, something's wrong," she said urgently. "Aunt Jax isn't answering me. And her hand is really cold."

Steve turned at the distressed sound of Gracie's voice and Danny saw the alarm on his face as he turned back just as Jax started to pitch forward.

"Aunt Jax!" Gracie cried in alarm, slipping her little arm around Jax's waist.

As Gracie's arm encircled her, Jax tried, and failed, to bite back a cry of pain. Steve grabbed her by the elbows and eased her down as she went to her knees on the ground, then cupped his hand around her face.

"Jax, talk to me, what's wrong . . . " he said urgently, as Gracie looked up at Danny, her face stricken.

"Danno, I didn't mean to hurt her," she whispered. Her two friends stood close by, watching the scene unfold. One of them grabbed Gracie's hand and squeezed it sympathetically.

"You couldn't have, Monkey," Danny assured her quickly. "I think she was already hurt and trying not to let us know."

Danny knelt behind Jax, his arm around her shoulder as Steve frantically tried to communicate with her. She was mumbling but Steve couldn't make much sense of what she was saying. Her skin felt cold and clammy under his hand.

"She was pulling at the vest, Steve," Danny said, and Steve helped him ease it off her. She hissed in pain at the motion, and pitched forward.

Steve wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and cradled her head against his shoulder. "Ku'uipo, where are you hurt? Please, Jax, you gotta stay awake, tell me . . ."

"Steve," Danny said, in a quietly panicked voice. The back of Jax's t-shirt had pulled up along with her vest, revealing massive, deeply purple bruising that began just to the right of her spine and wrapped around her side.

"Shit, Danny," Steve hissed, glancing to be sure the girls couldn't see the injury. His strong hands gently checked her ribs, and once again she couldn't hold back the sharp cry of pain.

"Steve, what is it? Are her ribs broken?" Danny asked.

Steve shook his head. "The lower one may be fractured, but it's not broken; that's what I don't . . . " Steve gently pressed Jax back by the shoulders to look at her. Her eyes were clouded in confusion and pain. "Jax, tell me how bad," he demanded gently. "You've gotta talk to me sweetheart, tell me what I'm working with."

"I . . . something's not right," Jax gritted out. "I thought I could just walk it off but . . ." she broke off as a wave of pain and nausea crashed over her. She allowed herself to fall forward again, letting Steve catch her weight, as Danny rubbed soothing circles on her shoulders.

"I think I'm hurt," she whispered.

Steve huffed out a disbelieving chuckle. "You think? Damn it, Jax."

"I'm going to demand a full explanation later, but I'm calling for Chin to get a bus ready now," Danny said.

Steve nodded gratefully in agreement, as he gently rubbed Jax's shoulders and whispered to her. "Hang on, ku'uipo, we're going to get you out of here. It's going to be okay."

"Chin will have a bus ready right at the point where this path empties into the parking lot," Danny reported. "There's a stretcher coming; Malia will have a team waiting for you at Queens."

"Aunt Jax," Gracie choked out, dropping to her knees next to Jax. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, honey, you didn't do anything," Steve assured her, rubbing her head. "Your Aunt Jax got hit with a great big log; she got hit really, really hard, and she didn't let me know how badly she was hurt. You were doing a good job, you were holding her hand and you didn't let her fall."

Jax was hanging on to consciousness by a thread, but she instinctively reached out her hand to Gracie.

"Her hand is so cold, Uncle Steve," Gracie sniffled.

"I know, baby, I think she's in shock, I'll get her to Aunt Malia as quick as I can, okay?

Chin and Kono appeared, along with two paramedics who were rushing to them with a stretcher.

"Steve, what's going on?" Chin asked. "We sent Jax in for your injuries."

Danny raised his eyebrows at Steve in question, but Steve waved him off.

"We need to get her to Queens," Steve said, motioning for the paramedics to bring the stretcher. They placed it on the ground next to Jax, and Steve and Chin gently positioned her. "Ready?" Steve asked, and they lifted the stretcher, keeping it as level as possible. Even so, Jax bit out a mumbled curse in pain.

"Sorry, kid, hold on," Chin said, smiling down at her from his corner of the stretcher. "We're going to get you to Malia as quick as we can."

"Kono, can you help Danny get everything sorted with the kids, the parents?" Steve asked. "Meet up with us at Queens later." He tossed her the keys to his truck.

"You got it, Boss," Kono said. She was handing each of the girls a bottle of Gatorade, which they were drinking gratefully.

Danny looked at them - Steve could see that he was torn between needing to stay and care for Grace and wanting to go with him to get answers to his questions, and look out for Jax. "Danny," he said, holding up his hand for the others to pause just a moment. "It's okay, man, I've got her. We'll explain everything when you get to Queens."

"Get him checked out, too, Chin," Danny said, pointing at Steve's leg. Chin gave him a little salute, and they were off.

()()()()()()()()

The paramedics loaded Jax into the waiting ambulance, and Chin followed in his SUV, lights flashing.

"Commander," one of the medics said as he gently shoved Steve aside, "for right now, let us do our job, ok? I know you have excellent training; if we get in trouble, don't worry, sir, we're not too stubborn to ask for your help."

Steve nodded and stepped back as the ambulance began speeding toward Queens.

"Does your leg need attention?" The other medic asked, gesturing to the bandage seeping with blood visible through his torn pants.

"No, I'll get it checked at the ER, I'm okay," Steve answered. "How are her vitals?"

The medic had attached a blood pressure cuff and was busy wiping the remnants of the camo paint away from her face. "BP is 80/50, heart rate is elevated," the medic answered. Steve craned to see around him and his heart sank. Jax's skin had taken on a golden glow in the several months she'd been on the island, but now she was ghostly pale, her lips colorless. "Shock . . . internal bleeding?" Steve asked.

"It's a possibility," the medic answered gently, "but we both know that until they run the scans and the tests there's no way to know. She's stable for now, and I've started an IV of fluid to try to keep her pressure up."

"We're less than five minutes out," the other medic announced. "Dr. Waincroft has a team waiting for us."

As an alarm notified them that Jax's blood pressure had dropped to 65/40, the paramedic thumped twice behind the driver, and Steve felt the speed of the ambulance increase.

"Make that three minutes," the medic said. He moved out of the way so Steve could hold her hand. The medic hesitated, but reached out and squeezed Steve's shoulder sympathetically. "Hey, Commander, I know she looks pretty rough, but she's stable."

"Thanks," Steve said sincerely.

()()()()()()()()

Malia was waiting for them at the double door ambulance entry. She listened carefully as the paramedics recited Jax's vitals, gently probed the rapidly swelling bruise on her lower back, and promptly sent for for a CT scan.

"Steve," she said, handing him a toiletry kit and set of scrubs. "Sweetheart, you're going to scare my patients to death. Go get cleaned up, and then go in Trauma 1 and I'll check that wound on your leg, okay?"

He stared at her numbly, and for a moment she was concerned that he was going into shock as well. She placed her hand on his arm, and felt him sag in exhaustion and relief as he spotted Chin coming in the door. Malia smiled; for all his command experience, it was obvious that Steve deeply appreciated Chin's calming presence - the entire team did.

"You look axed, Steve," Chin observed. "What's the word on Jax?"

"She's been taken for a CT scan," Malia explained. "Make sure Steve gets cleaned up, and get him in Trauma 1, would you, sweetheart? We'll get him squared away so that he's able to focus on Jax when she gets back up."

Chin nodded in understanding. "Steve, I believe you know your way around the doctor's locker room," he joked. "How about I find us some decent coffee and a sandwich?"

()()()()()()()()

"Thanks, Chin," Steve said quietly, after swallowing a bit of turkey on wheat. He hadn't thought that he would be hungry, but upon smelling the food, he discovered that he was ravenous. Propped up high on an exam table, he tucked in to the sandwich while Malia debrided and dressed the wound on his leg.

"Well, there's not much I can do by way of stitches," she said, "and I'm going to order antibiotics just to be safe."

Steve smiled. "So I was told," he said.

"Ah, by our favorite SWAT medic, I presume," Malia said, her dimples endearingly framing her smile. "Now, let me check that shoulder."

Steve raised his eyebrows in question. "Oh, please, Commander, Chin dropped the dime on you." She helped Steve ease out of the scrub shirt, and then gently probed his shoulder with her cool, sure fingers. "Well, it's definitely set properly, not that I would have expected any differently. This is extensive bruising though . . . let me guess, you tried to muscle it back into place before you asked for help?" She helped him replace the scrub shirt and then expertly activated a cold pack and pressed it against his shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said, ducking his head slightly. Just then, Malia's pager went off.

"That's radiology. Hang tight here, I'll go and at the very least get a report. Maybe I'll even be able to bring back your girl," she said, smiling at Steve.

()()()()()()()()

By the time Malia came back with a report, Steve was pacing - limping - the small confines of Trauma 1. Chin was typing up reports on his laptop, his unflappable demeanor the only thing that was preventing Steve from literally tearing the hospital apart.

"Oh dear, sit down before you collapse," Malia scolded. "Jax is being admitted - calm down, Steve, it's just for observation. She has a very badly bruised kidney; it caused slow internal bleeding and of course the shock. But, the CT scan doesn't show any tears or lacerations. She's being given IV fluids, and she's awake and alert; which is no favor to her, I assure you. She's in severe pain and we're working to get that under control."

As Steve took a shaky breath, Chin gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

"I'll take you to her," Malia said, and the three of them headed toward the elevator.

()()()()()()()()

The nurses were finished setting Jax up with her IVs, and were slipping out of the room just as Steve arrived.

"It's okay, go on in," Malia said, flipping through the chart hung just outside the door. "They've given her a good dose of painkillers, but it hasn't kicked in yet. Maybe you can distract her until it takes effect."

Steve smirked and Chin smacked him gently on the back of the head.

The room was dim, facing away from the late afternoon sun. There was a comfortable chair by the head of Jax's bed, and Steve slid into it, taking her small hand in his. She opened her eyes and tried to smile up at him, but closed them again as a wave of pain and nausea came over her. A muffled sob slipped past her tightly pressed lips, and Steve bent and kissed her gently on her forehead.

"Ku'uipo, I'm so sorry," he murmured, brushing her auburn curls away from her face. "Malia says they've given you something, just relax, okay? It will kick in soon."

He reached over for a cup of water and held it up to her in question; placing the straw in her mouth when she nodded gratefully. "Thanks," she rasped. "I'm okay. Just sore."

Steve looked at her incredulously. "Jax, you're not okay. They're keeping you at least overnight, possibly longer. What possessed you to jump in front of a massive log launched at you?"

"I told you," she said stubbornly. "You know how to disarm explosives; I don't. Danny and Gracie . . . that was what mattered."

He tenderly stroked her cheek. "I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. Still, I think I could have . . . it would have caught me higher, in the vest."

"Would have caught you dead center. Might have caused a spinal injury. I got off easy, all things considered," Jax said, shifting uncomfortably. "Holy _shit_ ," she said, as the movement sent pain shooting into her hip.

Steve's breath hitched. She _had_ gotten off easy, all things considered, and still she was in agonizing pain.

"Jax what if . . . "

She shook her head minutely, wincing. "Don't. Don't borrow trouble, Steve." She scrunched up her face, and Steve thought it was cute and funny, until he realized she was doing everything in her power to hold back tears.

"Jax, no . . . " he whispered, slipping his large hand under her neck and cradling her head gently, "why do you always think you have so much to prove, sweetheart? It's just me."

"Just you. Commander Steve McGarrett, Navy SEAL and leader of an elite task force," she gritted out.

"Yeah, earlier today," he said, stroking her cheek gently. "But right now, I'm Steve, the guy who absolutely adores you. Just me. You understand what I'm saying?"

She nodded slightly, a tear escaping with the movement. Steve thumbed it away, and the ones that followed, until the drugs kicked in and she slipped into blissful unawareness.

()()()()()()()()

Steve was answering texts and emails from Chin and Grover on his phone, when he heard a gentle knock on the door.

"Come on in," he answered quietly, smiling when Danny, Kono, and Gracie appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, guys," he said, gesturing for them to come in. "She's out of it, thank God. Hey Gracie," he said, opening his arms for a big hug. She ran into his arms and he kissed the top of her head.

"She really wanted to come," Danny said quietly. "Rachel said she would pick her up here; hope that was okay."

"Of course," Steve said warmly. "Here, Gracie, you want to sit next to your Aunt Jax? You can hold her hand, she would like that."

"Is she hurt really bad again, Uncle Steve?" Gracie said, carefully taking Jax's hand in her own. "Her hand is warmer."

"She's very hurt," Steve said honestly, glancing up at Danny and Kono. Danny nodded - he trusted Steve to give Gracie a gentle version of the truth, but it couldn't possibly be worse than what Gracie's active imagination could come up with in the absence of information.

"Her kidney - you know what kidneys are, right? Yeah, smart girl - well, it got very badly bruised, which is a serious injury. But, not nearly as serious as if it had been torn, or if the blood vessels that connect her kidney had been torn. And they weren't. So, she's going to get better, with some rest," Steve explained.

"You said she got hit with a log," Gracie reminded him.

Steve glanced at Danny again, who shrugged - he hadn't heard the story; Kono had caught him up on the rest of the day's events, but nobody really knew what happened that had resulted in Jax's injury.

"Was she being careless with her life again?" Gracie asked. "Mommy said that now that she was here with Danno, and she had you, that maybe she would start being more careful."

"Gracie, your Aunt Jax wasn't being careless today; she was thinking of you and Danno. She wanted to make sure that I was able to take care of that explosive on your building. So, she pushed me out of the way, to make sure that I could look out for you, and Danno, and your friends. She knew she would probably get hurt, but she took the chance because she loves you guys an awful lot," Steve said, pulling gently on Gracie's pigtail.

"She loves you an awful lot too, Uncle Steve," Gracie said solemnly. "I heard her tell Kono the other night at your house, when we came for barbeque." She stopped and looked up at Danny. "I wasn't trying to snoop, Danno. Sometimes I'm just ninja, like Uncle Steve."

Danny was going to have to come up with a name for this new face of Steve's.


	28. Court Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a brand new chapter, not part of the original thirty-six chapters, but inserted into the timeline and inspired by rungirl60's request for some pain free fun. I set out to write 'fun' and this is what happened . . .

Danny didn’t mind court days.  Not really.  For one thing, other than that fiasco in New York, he was less likely to shot at, driven off a cliff, or subjected to Steve’s general brand of insanity on court days.  For another thing, he didn’t stick out like a sore thumb in the courthouse.  People in the courthouse still dressed professionally, and Danny appreciated professionalism, unlike most of his team.  He was wearing his most recent Father’s Day tie today, and for once, no one would roll their eyes.

Steve hated court days.  Hated them.  He avoided them whenever possible, but sometimes, even immunity and means couldn’t get him out of it.  He had to change into what Danny affectionately called his grown-up clothes -- which, okay, he was only human, alright? and he didn’t entirely hate the appreciative glances that came his way when he wore the tailored gray pants, and the cobalt blue dress shirt that he kept at the office just for court days.  Even if they felt somewhat constricting.  But still, they couldn’t bring guns into the courthouse, and he missed the familiar weight.  And he missed the pockets of his cargo pants; leaving him with no convenient place for his phone, his lock pick set, his knife.  And boots.  Without boots, there was no place for his back up gun.  And his back up knife.  He sighed.  

“You’re like a toddler,” Danny observed, amused.

“I’m not like a toddler,” Steve said, pouting.

“Really,” Danny said dryly.  “Are you really serious right now?”  He parked the car in the designated spot at the courthouse and they entered.  There had been a point at which Danny had been terrified that Gracie and her friends would be called to testify against the idiot that had managed to trap them.  Thankfully, it had been decided that Steve and Danny’s testimony, along with the forensic evidence, would be more than sufficient.  Rachel’s lawyer would have had a field day with Gracie having to miss school to testify in one of her dad’s cases.

“What?” Steve glanced at him, concerned, as they were ushered to the conference room reserved by the DA.  

“You have hamster face; unnecessary hamster face,” Danny said.  “I’m just glad I’m not here for family court.  And I’m glad Gracie didn’t have to testify.  That’s all.”

“Oh.  Yeah, that’s good, Danno,” Steve said.  “This thing was not your fault, you know that, right?”

“Not my -- of course I know that, you moron.  You.  You and Jax are the ones with the -- the, I don’t know, the guilt complex or the savior complex or whatever.  Of course this was not my fault.  This was the maniac’s fault.  He hurt my two best friends and he endangered my baby girl,” Danny ranted. He stopped short, looking at Steve . . . oh, great.  Smitten face.  He followed Steve’s gaze and --

“Jax,” Danny said, grinning in surprise.  “Steve didn’t mention you were going to be here.”

“I didn’t know I was,” Jax said.  “Last minute, the prosecutor decided to trot out my hospital photos; something about ‘compelling evidence of willful intent to maim’.  Prosecutors like to put me on the stand; this happened a lot in New York.  Seriously, as if terrorizing Gracie and her friends weren’t enough to compel the judge to throw the book at this guy . . . I don’t know what a photo of a bruise is going to accomplish.”

Steve’s eyes darkened.  “Wasn’t exactly a bruise, Jax,” he said quietly.  He had been there; in the hospital, and at home.  He had helped dole out pain meds and rotate ice packs and stood helplessly outside the door of the bathroom, wincing in firsthand memory of how painful a bruised kidney could be.  Weeks later, Jax was back on duty, but the bruise still hadn’t completely faded.

“Officers,” the bailiff called from the doorway, “if you’ll follow me, please . . . “

()()()()()()()()

By early afternoon, Halawa had a new resident, and Steve, Danny and Jax were standing on the steps of the courthouse.   The breeze was perfect; even Danny wasn’t complaining about the heat.

“Excellent work today, Officer Nolan,” Grover said, as he joined them.  “Your first court appearance on behalf of HPD.  I think that warrants an afternoon off; if our friends from Five-O can give you a ride?”

“Absolutely,” Steve said, grinning.

“Let me guess,” Danny added.  “It’s a good day for golf, and you’re afraid that if you go back to HPD, you’ll never get back out?”

“It’s a perfect day for golf,” Grover agreed, “and unless some sort of mayhem breaks out, that’s what I intend to do.  Please, for the love of God, try not to incite any riots or create any armed stand-offs.”

“We don’t create these situations,” Steve protested.

“Right,” Grover said, waving at them over his shoulder.

“So, I guess I get to hang out at Five-O?” Jax said, smiling up at Steve.

“I have an even better idea,” Steve said.

()()()()()()()()

“I have to admit, Steven, I thought that for once, you were going to pull off, I don’t know, some sort of plan that made sense.  Perfect afternoon, you looking all GQ, Jax as dressed up as we ever see her, unless she’s undercover . . . I thought, maybe, just maybe, you’d do something normal, like take her out to dinner or something,” Danny observed, taking a sip of his Longboard and glancing at Steve next to him.  They were slouched in the Adirondack chairs, watching Kono and Jax help Gracie hop over the small breakers on Steve’s stretch of beach.

“You have one part right -- it is the perfect afternoon, Danno,” Steve said, smiling at him.

“I have to agree,” Chin said, handing each of them a fresh bottle and settling into the third chair.  “If this is part of immunity and means, I am definitely happy to be part of Five-O.”

The three friends clinked their bottles together.  Danny wondered how long Steve would be able to sit . . . and he was off, grinning boyishly at Danny and trotting down to the waterline, favoring his leg ever so slightly.  

Danny sighed and shook his head as his precious Gracie bent to examine the still-healing wound on Steve’s calf, and then traced her little fingers gently over the fading bruise on Jax’s lower back.  “Great; she’s picking up on their crazy fascination with injuries,” Danny grumbled.  “Next thing you know, Jax will have her signed up for paramedic school and Kono will have her applying to the academy.”

“She could do worse,” Chin said, smiling.

“I want her to be happy,” Danny said.  “Happy, and safe.  In a nice office somewhere.  Maybe a bunker.  It’s enough worrying over the two of them,” he added, gesturing toward Steve and Jax with his bottle.

Chin nodded, watching as Steve curled his hand around Jax’s hip.  “Do you ever think they’ll quit looking at each other like that?”

“Like what?  Like love-struck teenagers?  I doubt it.  I think I still look at Rachel like that, to be honest,” Danny said.

“Really?  But no, I meant . . . like they’re afraid that if they blink, it will go away,” Chin said thoughtfully.  

Danny sighed.  “I’d like to think so, buddy, but . . . well.  They did blink, once, and Steve heard his dad murdered, and Jax watched buildings fall on the people she loved.”

“I guess they’ll never take each other for granted,” Chin said.

“I’ll drink to that,” Danny said.

()()()()()()()()

Danny had taken a reluctant Gracie home after an evening of homework -- Danny made a mental note that between them, really, they had every subject covered; let Rachel stew on *that* next time she complained about the time Gracie spent with the team -- and dinner.  And, of course, s’mores over the small bonfire that Steve pretended he did for Gracie’s benefit, but they all knew better.

Chin and Kono said their goodbyes, and as they heard the fading sound of Chin’s bike turn the corner, Jax sighed happily and snuggled closer to Steve.  He was toying with her curls, mesmerized by the play of light from the fire on the bright highlights created by the sun.

“Cold?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling his face in her hair.  She smelled like the ocean and toasted marshmallows.  

“Hmm,” she agreed, “but I don’t want to go in.”  She grabbed Steve’s hoodie from the back of the chair and pulled it over her head, wincing just slightly at the movement.  He helped her, tugging the edge of the sweatshirt gently down over her hips, his hand rubbing ever so gently against her side.  

“This still bothering you?” he asked, slipping his hand under the soft, worn fabric and caressing her skin.

“Barely noticeable,” she said, leaning back against him.  “Those photos . . . I hadn’t really gotten a good look at it.  Gnarly.”

“Terrifying,” Steve whispered.  

She shifted, turning so that she could face him, and cupped her hand around his face.  Her thumb traced idly over his late-day scruff.  “I’m fine,” she reminded him.  “And so was Gracie, and that’s what matters.  She is something else, isn’t she?  She’s so smart.  And kind.  She has a kind soul.”

“Like her dad,” Steve agreed.

“Thank you,” Jax said.  “For today.  Thank you.”

“Danny thought I should have taken you out to dinner,” Steve commented, his hand going back to her hair.  “Should I have taken you out to dinner?”

Jax laughed.  “Are you kidding?  We’ve had this conversation, remember?  Danny . . . Rachel wasn’t happy with a cop’s life.  She didn’t understand, that being able to come home at the end of the day . . . she didn’t understand.”

“I hated it.  Coming home, at the end of the day . . . when I first came back to the island.  It was -- I hadn’t planned to ever live here again.  And there was still . . . I hated it,” Steve said quietly.  

“So, what did you do?  Where did you go?  New York . . . I didn’t have to go home.  The city literally never sleeps.  But it’s quiet here,” Jax said, her fingers drawing absent circles on his knee.

“Oh, I spent more than a few nights at the office,” Steve mused.  “Bartenders called Chin to collect me more than once . . . not my proudest moments.  I passed out at Danny’s several times.  Do you know he sleeps on a sofa bed?  Or, I went --”  he broke off, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her gently.  “You know, Danny’s right.”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“We do need to get out and see a few sights.  Come on, I want to show you something.”

()()()()()()()()

“It’s amazing,” Jax breathed, looking out over the harbor; the moon and thousands of twinkling stars reflected in the still water.  They were parked high on a cliff, only a few miles from Steve’s house.  “I feel like I could touch the moon.  You can’t see stars like this in Jersey.”

She snuggled back contentedly against Steve, who was propped against the cab of the truck, his long legs stretched out in front of him.  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Sometimes, in those first few months, I would come here.  It helped me collect my thoughts,” Steve said.  “When I was a kid, my dad brought me here a few times, when he’d been putting in long hours at work, and we’d go for days without really seeing him.  He would tell me that our family was important to him, and that he missed us, but that keeping the island safe -- that was important too.  It was part of how he took care of our family.  So, those early days, when I second-guessed my decision to leave the Navy, and start Five-O, I would come here.  It helped.”

“Do you still second-guess yourself?” Jax asked quietly.  “I would understand if you did.  You gave up a lot.”

“No,” Steve said, turning her face so that he could look in her eyes.  “No, Jax.  I gave myself the opportunity to have a shot at something I didn’t even know I wanted.  No second-guessing.  What about you?  Leaving New York?”

She shifted easily and gracefully so that she was facing him, straddling his lap.  He grinned; among other delightful advantages, this position minimized their height difference, allowing him to look directly into her eyes.  There was no hint of doubt there, as she closed the distance between them, and kissed him.  

Her eyes were twinkling when she pulled back to look at him.  “So, did you come here without your dad?  When you were a teenager . . . I bet you brought girls here.  Admit it.”

Steve laughed.  “No way.  I studied, and I played football.  My parents . . . had very high expectations.”

“Yeah?” she said, her voice low.  “My parents had no expectations.  So I lived up to them.”

“You were the girl my parents warned me about, then,” Steve growled into her ear, as he placed a trail of kisses down her neck.  He smirked as her breath hitched.

“I was,” she mumbled against his collarbone.  “I would totally have brought you up here, and had my wicked way with you.”

“Really,” he drawled.  “I bet you said that to all the boys.”

“Nope,” she chuckled.  “Actually, none of the boys.  I was only interested in their cars.  But you . . . you would have been different.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling as he tilted his head back to look at her curiously.  “Why?  What about me is different?”

She studied him for a moment, then dropped her eyes, tracing her hands over the ink on his biceps.  When she looked up, her eyes were wide with amazement, as though she’d just realized something for the first time.

“Everything,” she whispered.  “No one else, not since Jake . . . no one else has ever . . .  everything about you is different.  And I think I would have seen it.  Even then.”

His huge hands wrapped easily around her hips, and he pulled her flush against him, groaning quietly at the contact.  She gave a little sigh, like he was better than coffee and guns and everything else all rolled into one.

His brain short circuited and discarded all of the words from the word-a-day calendars except for one: _Everything_. He whispered it over and over again, as the kisses turned from soft and sweet to hot and wet and something entirely new and different and  _even better,_ Jax thought; and Steve chuckled smugly because she’d said it out loud.

“Shut up, sailor,” she said, murmuring into his ear, just before her tongue did naughty, naughty things to that little spot behind it that always made him breathe funny, “and let me have my wicked way with you.”

()()()()()()()()

Danny looked at Steve suspiciously as he signed the stack of requisition forms.

“What?” Steve said, not looking up from the papers in front of him.

“You were the last one here this morning,” Danny said, “and now you’re . . . smiling.  At requisition forms.  You hate requisition forms.”

“Oh, is it time for requisition forms?” Kono said, as she breezed by the open door of Steve’s office.  “Hold up, I have some, too.”

Danny continued to eye Steve skeptically as Kono skipped back to her office.

“She’s probably going to ask for a drone,” Danny said.  “Or an RPG.  And heaven help us, you’ll probably sign off on it.”

“Ummhmm,” Steve said, still not looking up at Danny.

“Why won’t you look at me, Steven?”

“Danny,” Steve said, rolling his eyes and looking up.

“A ha! That look.  I’ve seen that look before,” Danny said.  He waved his hand vaguely around in front of Steve.  “All, happy, and smug, and . . .  That look.”

“What look?” Kono asked, coming into the office with a stack of papers clutched in her hand.  She stood next to Danny and tilted her head appraisingly at Steve.  “Oh, yeah, _that_ look.”  She grinned at Steve, all dimples and flashing white teeth, and held out her fist.  He automatically fist-bumped her and grinned back.

“Oh,” Danny groaned.  “Oh that’s just . . . wrong.  Brain bleach.  I need brain bleach.”

Steve grinned shamelessly, yawned, and stood up.  “Come on, Danno, let’s make a coffee run.  My treat.”

“Seriously?” Danny asked, now even more skeptical.  “Super SEAL is going on a caffeine run?”

“Yeah,” Steve shot back over his shoulder as he headed to the elevator, Danny on his heels, waving his hands.  “Didn’t get much sleep last night . . . “

  
Kono couldn’t make out the exact words as the doors closed on Danny and Steve, but she was pretty sure they were from Jersey.


	29. Jade 1

_New York_

_September 2004_

" _Detective Williams," Danny said absently, answering his phone with one hand while signing requisition forms with the other. His partner, Tony, smiled at the sight. Danny had become an expert multi-tasker since becoming a father. Tony's smile faded as Danny's expression - normally cheerful, even if somewhat exasperated - became tense and solemn._

" _What floor? Okay, thank you. I'll be there as soon as I can." Danny paused and shook his head. "No, her parents are still alive. It's just . . . I'm listed as her medical proxy for a reason, okay? If she comes to, tell her I'm on my way." Danny hung up the phone and scrubbed his hand over his face._

" _Danny, what's up?" Tony asked, looking across their back-to-back desks, cluttered with papers and coffee cups._

_Danny sighed. "My rookie is in the hospital . . . again."_

" _Nolan?" Tony asked, smiling. "Who did she pick a fight with this time?"_

_Danny shook his head. "It's unclear at this point; but since I'm still listed as her emergency contact, I guess I'm going to find out."_

" _Want me to drive you?" Tony asked. "I've got time, partner. What about Rachel? She got a little testy last time."_

" _Ah, the delightful Rachel has taken Grace to visit her parents. She said she needed a 'respite from the tedium' of New Jersey. And yeah, if you're sure, I'd love the company."_

_Danny cleared their exit with their sergeant, who was sympathetic to the situation despite Danny's frequent calls to check Jacqueline out of the hospital - or convince her to stay._

_()()()()()()()()_

_2004_

" _Officer Williams, here for Officer Nolan," Danny announced to the nurse, showing his badge._

" _Right this way, officer," she said, leading them down a hallway and around a corner to a quiet room. She opened the door and stepped inside the room, picking up the chart at the foot of the bed. "Officer Nolan was brought in to the emergency room. She was unconscious, suffering a broken arm and a concussion, along with a host of contusions and lacerations, consistent with a beating or a bad fall. CT scan shows no internal bleeding, and the break was a simple fracture of the ulna. The bruises, of course, will take time to heal. The primary concern was the significant amount of water in her lungs -"_

" _Wait, what? Why did she have water in her lungs?" Danny asked. "No one said anything about that." Danny looked at Jacqueline and did a double-take at the inky black hair spread over the pillow. That was new. It complemented the purple of the bruise forming on her jaw._

_The nurse looked up over the top of the chart. "Officer Williams, I'm sorry. Officer Nolan was pulled out of the river. She apparently was thrown off the Montauk bridge; a homeless veteran was encamped underneath and saw her go in. He went in after her and got her to the ER. It's really very remarkable. We've put her on a round of IV antibiotics as a preventive measure against pneumonia."_

" _Has he been interviewed?" Danny asked._

" _I'll call, Danny," Tony said. "You focus on Jacqueline, okay? Let me call and see if they interviewed this guy." Tony stepped out into the hallway, pulling out his cellphone._

_Danny ran his hands through his hair. "Sorry," he said, turning his attention back to the nurse. "I just had no idea this is what happened; I was only told about the concussion and broken arm."_

_The nurse smiled sympathetically. "I understand Officer Williams; but I like your partner's idea of letting him get the details of the case, while you focus on Officer Nolan. She's going to need a friendly face; she should be regaining consciousness any time now. She'll be free to go as soon as the IV is done." The nurse frowned as she glanced back through the chart. "Officer Williams, I see you've been responsible for discharge for . . . well, for almost all of Officer Nolan's hospital visits." She paused and peered over her glasses at Danny. "Except, of course, for the ones where she refused to have you called, and signed out AMA." Danny shrugged. He couldn't help that. "Is there no one closer who could assume responsibility for her medical proxy?"_

" _Apparently not," Danny sighed. He pulled up a chair next to the head of the bed and took Jacqueline's hand in his. Her forearm was sporting another nasty bruise, and Danny's jaw tightened as he recognized the distinctive pattern of finger marks just above her wrist._

_The nurse smiled encouragingly at him. "She's not in any hurry to join us . . . to be honest, we're not sure why but she seems reluctant to regain consciousness. Perhaps if you talk to her, you could coax her into a more conscious state," she said, as she left the room._

_Danny took Jacqueline's hand in his. "Hey, kid. Okay, so first, why are you still unconscious? We're usually having to dope you with a second dose of stuff to keep you still. So, work on that. Secondly, I look forward to the explanation of the hair. This is . . . wow, so not your color. So, again, work on waking up so you can explain that to me."_

_Tony stepped back into the room. "Her sergeant says that they interviewed the guy that brought her in. He's not entirely stable, though he certainly had it together enough to go in after her and get her to safety. No id on a perp - the guy just insisted that she was 'wrestling with a demon' and that she needed help. That's all they could get out of him. They assume some guy got the drop on her, either random mugging or maybe associated with her most recent case."_

" _Which was - let me guess - undercover," Danny said, pointing to her hair._

_Tony grinned. "Yeah, she was doing a UC for Vice, running with a bunch of street racers."_

" _Oh, good Lord in heaven, her brother would be rolling over in his grave," Danny groaned. "He convinced her to go to the police academy to get her out of that scene." He looked down as he felt her fingers twitch beneath his._

" _Hey, babe," Danny said softly, reaching with his other hand to brush her hair out of her face. "Come on, sweetie, come back. You can go home as soon as your IV is done."_

_A sound between a whimper and a groan was the response as her fingers tightened on his._

" _There you go, honey, open your eyes for me, okay?" Danny encouraged._

" _Billy . . . I can't find him . . . " she mumbled, barely conscious, and Danny's heart broke a little. Again. Three years, countless calls, and this was how it usually started: with her regaining consciousness and asking for her brother, and Danny having to break the news to her all over again._

_He felt Tony's hand, comforting and heavy on his shoulder. This wasn't the first time he'd witnessed this little ritual._

" _Hey, it's Danny. I'm here," he said, stroking her cheek._

_Her eyelashes fluttered, dark against her pale skin, and then her startling green eyes were locked onto Danny's._

" _Danny?"_

" _Yeah, babe, they called me," Danny said, leaning forward to brush away a tear as it made its way slowly from the corner of her eye toward the pillow. She turned her head away from him, and he frowned. In all the times he'd sat beside her in the hospital, she'd never done that. It was almost as if she was disappointed to see him._

" _Jacqueline, who did you think would be here?" Danny asked, wondering if there was someone else she had hoped to see. Maybe there was a guy . . ._

" _Billy," she whispered. "I thought I'd see Billy."_

" _Oh, babe, I'm so sorry," Danny said, kissing her forehead._

_She closed her eyes and drifted back off to sleep. Something nagged at the edge of Danny's mind but for once, she wasn't arguing and ripping out her own IV, so he dismissed it._

_()()()()()()()()_

"McGarrett," Steve said, efficiently and to the point. It had taken a year to break himself of automatically using his full title; not that it wasn't still his to use. "Yes, Governor, we're all in the office, he can come over any time. Captain Grover as well? Okay. Yes. Thank you, sir."

Steve stood and walked out toward the center console table. Danny looked up from his desk, and a simple lift of Steve's chin let him know that something was up, so he headed out.

"What's up, Steve?" Danny asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Steve said. "That was Denning; we've got someone from Homeland Security on the way over, along with Grover. Looks like MS-13 is making another play for activity on the island."

Chin and Kono had noticed them standing in the center of the room and came to join them.

"Why is Homeland here for gang activity?" Chin wondered.

"We're about to find out," Steve said, nodding as the elevator dinged.

Grover exited the elevator first.

"McGarrett, this is Agent Greg Davidson," Grover said, as the man reached to shake Steve's hand.

"Agent Davidson," Steve greeted. "The rest of my team: Detective Williams, Officers Kelly and Kalakaua."

After a quick round of introductions, Agent Davidson got right to the point. He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket, which Chin quickly accepted and inserted into the computer table.

"Homeland Security has been actively involved in prosecuting human trafficking cases, as you know. Of course, we work in connection with the FBI and local law enforcement, but Homeland is in a unique position to track international movement. We've recently been working with local law enforcement to start adding human trafficking to the list of gang-related crime. There's a growing awareness that not all gang participation is voluntary, for one thing; for another, it gives us another angle to prosecute gang activity - especially across national boundaries," the agent explained. He confidently manipulated the computer and files began to appear on the plasma screen.

"Sounds like a very reasonable approach," Steve agreed. He appreciated the agent's no-nonsense approach, as well as his mild manner which indicated that he wasn't there to throw his weight around.

Davidson nodded. "We've been seeing good results so far. I'm here in Honolulu, and specifically here at Five-O, because we understand that MS-13 is slowly building a presence on the island."

"Yeah, there was an incident just a few months back," Danny said. "A school shooting, ending in a full-out armed confrontation at the docks."

"I understand Officer Kelly was injured," Davidson said. "It caught our attention; we hadn't expected MS-13 to be quite so aggressive so early on. Obviously, your excellent work slowed down some of the major players, but there's been continued activity."

He flashed a couple of pictures onto the plasma. "We're monitoring a potential situation with MS-13 recruiting a remnant of The Company gang members."

"The Company?" Chin asked, surprised. "That's really old school."

"Very true," Davidson responded, "but we're seeing a resurgence, and MS-13 is breathing new life into the old gang connections. We're pursuing several angles of criminal activity, all linked to the new gang activity. Our current focus is on a group of street racers that have a direct connection to the alliance between MS-13 and The Company."

"How can Five-O help?" Steve asked, curious.

"We're asking for help from Five-O and from HPD," Davidson answered. He hesitated, then put a file up on the screen. "We'd like to reactivate an undercover officer's role here in Honolulu. It's been determined that this cover identity is still intact, and we have every reason to believe that it's the perfect opportunity for an insertion into the local scene."

Danny reacted immediately. "You're kidding, right? Grover, please tell me he's kidding." The team looked at Danny in surprise, as he started pacing and gesturing wildly toward the screen. "Please tell me you are not considering signing off on this. Have you read the file? Do you know how that op ended?"

"Danny, what . . . " Steve said, then trailed off as he got a second look at the picture on the screen. A young woman, inky blue-black hair, pale skin, green eyes . . . "Oh. That's . . . wow. Okay."

"What?" Chin said, as Kono looked on in confusion.

"That would be Officer Nolan, summer of 2004," Grover explained; speaking to the cousins but watching Steve and Danny.

Agent Davidson stood quietly during the discussion.

"This can not happen. Find someone else," Danny demanded.

"Totally not your call, brah," Kono said. She was sympathetic to Danny's protective tendencies, so her tone was gentle even as she called him out. "Has anyone asked Jax?"

"Officer Nolan has already agreed to cooperate. She's turning over some equipment and getting another medic officer up to speed. She'll be joining us in a few minutes," Grover said. His voice was level and his face impassive; Steve couldn't get a read on him, which was unusual.

"You signed off on this, then?" Steve asked Grover.

"I did," he replied slowly, "on the condition that Five-O be fully integrated into the operation." He looked at Danny. "It was the best option for support and protection for Officer Nolan."

Danny shook his head and threw up his hands in exasperation. He turned on his heel and stormed into his office.

"Wow," Kono said, looking after him in alarm. "I know he's protective of Jax, but seriously, this is above and beyond, even for him."

"Let me talk to him," Steve said. He took a deep breath and opened the door to Danny's office. Danny was still, and quiet - which was so out of character that it instantly spooked Steve.

"Danny," he said quietly, "talk to me, partner."

"I saw Jax at the end of that op, Steve," Danny said, staring out the window of his office. "In a hospital bed. She'd been badly beaten, had a broken arm and a concussion."

Steve nodded, and waited for Danny to go on.

"She had water in her lungs, too. Because a homeless vet, God bless him, saw her go over the Montauk Bridge and fished her out, got her to safety." Danny finally looked up and met Steve's eyes.

"The Montauk . . . " realization dawned on Steve. "Shit, Danny. _Shit_."

"I should have known, Steve," Danny said, looking back out the window. "They interviewed the guy; he wasn't entirely stable, said she was 'fighting a demon'. Everyone assumed that some perp had beaten her, tossed her over. He was trying, Steve, the guy who rescued her was trying, in his way, to tell the staff that she'd . . . but as an officer, and with an assortment of injuries, they assumed . . . well, they assumed."

"You couldn't have known, Danny, we've been over this," Steve began, but Danny silenced him with a hand.

"She cried," Danny said. "She cried, and she turned away and wouldn't look at me when I got to the hospital, Steve. She looked . . . when she came to, and I was there, she looked so damned . . . disappointed. I should have _known_. But I didn't, not until a couple months ago when she was looped out on pain meds, sitting next to you on your sofa, and it slipped out."

Steve sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "We can't say anything, Danny, that would be a huge invasion of her privacy and betrayal of her trust."

"I know."

"She agreed to the op."

"I know."

"Grover's already signed off on it, Homeland is involved . . . "

"I _know_ , Steve."

"Well then what do you want me to do, Danny?" Steve asked, more than a little frustration bleeding into his tone.

"Ask her not to do it," Danny said, turning pleading eyes to Steve.

"I - Danny, I can't do that," Steve said, gripping the edge of Danny's desk and dropping his head down in defeat.

"She might turn it down if you asked her to," Danny continued.

"Yeah, she might," Steve said slowly. "And then she'd resent me, Danny. Come on, you know I'm right."

Danny stared at him a long minute, misery etched in his features. Then he gave a sad smile, and chuckled.

"My relationship with Rachel . . . this is why it was doomed. I couldn't give it up, and she couldn't understand," Danny said. He straightened his collar, pulled himself up to his full height, and clapped Steve on the shoulder. "And this, my friend, is why you and Jax will succeed where Rachel and I failed. But only if we keep both of you crazy idiot ninja people from falling on every available grenade, so let's go see what the plan is."

They turned to move toward the door, and looked through the glass walls toward the center of the room. Jax had arrived and was standing next to Grover, looking at the files on the plasma screen. Even in her boots and uniform, she stood barely to his shoulder blade. Her weight was shifted to one side, still favoring the bruising from the day of Gracie's field trip. Steve had traced his fingers over it just that morning, in the shower . . .

" _What color is it now?" she'd asked, amused at his fascination._

" _Sort of a . . . chartreuse," he'd said, grinning._

" _Seriously? You've been with Danny too long."_

" _How about we don't talk about Danny right now . . . "_

"Steven?" Danny's voice drug his attention reluctantly back to the office. His blue eyes were filled with concern as he looked up at Steve.

"Danny," Steve said hesitantly, still looking at Jax. "Everything I said . . . I think I take it back."

Danny nodded sympathetically. "I know, babe," he sighed. "But, and you don't hear me say this often, so enjoy it - you were right. Now, let's go make sure these people take care of our girl, yeah?"


	30. Jade 2

A/N: Obvious and blatant nods to the Fast and Furious oeuvre

()()()()()()()()

"Honestly, I'm shocked that the cover identity is still intact," Jax was saying, as Steve and Danny joined the rest of the group. "How can you be sure?"

"Are you kidding? Jade is a legend," Agent Davidson said. There was no mistaking the frank admiration in his tone. "Look at the file: reports of 'sightings', everywhere from Tokyo to Los Angeles. Your cover was never blown, not as far as we can tell. As far as anyone knows, Jade left New York after falling out of favor with Salinas Rivera and has been drifting, off the grid, ever since."

"Okay, catch us up to speed, please, because I'm feeling a little lost here," Danny said, holding up his hand to pause Agent Davidson.

Davidson nodded to Jax. She poked at the computer table and huffed in frustration, until Kono adroitly flicked the file she was trying to select onto the screen.

"Thanks," Jax said, grinning at Kono. "Okay, so back in the spring of 2004, I was still working the multi-department position in NYPD. Vice needed someone to go in undercover, try to infiltrate a group of street racers thought to be MS-13. They were using drug money to build the cars, and using the cars to run - literally - the drugs."

"So they sent you in," Grover said.

"Yeah. I didn't fit the typical profile for MS-13, but I could hold my own with the cars, enough to run in the same circles as Salinas Rivera," Jax said, poking hopefully at a file, and nodding in satisfaction when it appeared on the screen. "Salinas was suspected of the usual gang-related activity: drugs, guns, extortion."

"You got close to Rivera?" Danny said. He didn't like the sounds of that at all.

"Yes and no," Jax said. "I was one of those 'keep your enemies closer' sort of players. I was one of the few drivers that could beat Salinas on the street, so I'd earned a certain measure of respect. The idea was that he'd eventually decide I was worthy of being part of his inner circle, or I'd owe him a debt or a favor. Either way, he'd ask me to run something, and we'd have evidence."

"The idea? How'd that actually work out?" Chin asked.

"Ran into a couple of problems," Jax said. "There was a departmental squabble over whether to take Salinas down for the drugs or the extortion. And then I made a rookie mistake, and stepped on his ego. I made him look bad in front of his crew one night. He felt he had no choice but to put me down hard, and I ended up injured and off the case."

Jax fiddled with another file option, studiously avoiding looking at Danny, and while most of the eyes in the room were now focused on Salinas Rivera's arrest record, Kono's eyes were still on Danny. He was uncharacteristically quiet, his hands still - it was completely unnatural and entirely unsettling, as far as Kono was concerned, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

"They still had plenty on Salinas, and he was put away on drug charges." Jax continued. "I assumed the cover identity was over; void."

"You weren't concerned? At the time? You just, what, got out of the hospital and went back to work," Steve said, a bit incredulous.

Jax shrugged. "The cover was strong, I didn't think anyone would connect Jade back to Officer Jacqueline Nolan; I just assumed that everyone would forget Jade, or assume she was dead or . . . whatever. NYPD is big enough, I didn't go back into vice or gang units. By then I was working on tactical medic training."

"Well, the cover created was a good one. There's no indication that anyone then, or now, suspects that Jade is law enforcement," Davidson said. He appraised Jax warmly, and added, "You were a rookie at UC, but you were damn good." Steve was finding himself less impressed with Davidson's mild tone; it was starting to sound a little like manipulative flattery.

"That was all the work of the vice department," Jax said. "They created the files, the history, the persona. I just drove the cars."

"And that's all we're asking you to do now," Davidson said. "Jade still has a reputation in the racing community. With these reported sightings in Tokyo, it's not at all a stretch for The Company members to have an interest; since those affiliations go back to Japan."

"Look, I said I would help, and I can still find my way around a garage," Jax said, shaking her head, "but driving? It's been a while."

"How long is a while?" Danny asked. "Since 2004?"

"Maybe not that long," Jax muttered, kicking the floor with her boot. Grover rolled his eyes.

"Okay, let's say, for the sake of argument, that we just need you to get close; get back into the community," Davidson said. "Can you pull it off?"

Jax shrugged. "If there's enough interest . . . maybe some young drivers want a shot at someone who used to have a name. Or maybe I could work the wrench angle. Honestly, I have no idea."

 _Okay, then, new idea! Let's find a new idea. A different idea._ Steve's brain was helpfully supplying alternatives to sending an uncertain Jax back into the fray. _Be professional,_ he told himself firmly.

"Well, then we have a lot of work to do," Davidson said. "Let's start with seeing how much of Jade you can recapture." He gave Jax an appraising, approving head-to-toe glance. Kono smirked at the sudden tightness in Steve's jaw.

Jax shrugged, then looked at Danny.

"What . . . no, not the Camaro . . . it barely survives Steve. Can't you get something out of impound?" Danny protested.

"I will, if it comes to it; for right now, I just need to warm up a little. I haven't driven anything but Steve's truck and HPD issue SUVs since I've been on the island," Jax explained. "I was going to start looking for a car to putter around with once I got the Marquis going."

"What do you need?" Steve asked.

"For now, just some space," she answered. "What have you got?"

"Pohakula Training Center," Steve said, glancing at Chin, who nodded and smiled his approval. "It's an Army training base; not widely used. Lots of space."

"Okay, then, let's go," Davidson said, smiling down at Jax. Steve had a fleeting thought of how much better it would be if she were wearing his Coronado t-shirt right now.

"No," Grover interrupted mildly. "She's already said she needs space."

"I think she meant -" Davidson started to say, but Grover stopped him with a motion of his hand.

"I've signed off on my officer cooperating with your operation," Grover said. "You're not going to go look over her shoulder and pressure her. No, don't start with me, Agent Davidson. I know how Homeland, and FBI, and all of you people work. I'll gladly start working with you here, putting information together. Officer Nolan will go with Commander McGarrett to have a little time to see how she feels about driving."

 _Grover's a good guy_ , Steve thought. _I should buy him a beer._

"Well, I'm going with," Danny said, aiming for firm and mostly getting there, with just a tiny side of petulant. "It's my car. Which I never get to drive."

"Okay, Danny," Steve said, smiling indulgently.

The three moved toward the elevator, and Steve put his hand gently on the small of Jax's back. Strictly in an officer-and-gentleman sort of way of course, in fact, he'd done the same with Kono a thousand times. If his fingers happened to wander just a bit south as Agent Davidson glanced their way, well, that just was a momentary lapse.

()()()()()()()()

"I don't like it," Danny pronounced emphatically from the passenger seat. Steve had once again managed to designate himself as driver, citing the need to show his credentials at the security gate at Pohakula, and Jax had waved off Danny's gesture toward the front seat and slid easily into the back.

"No one asked you, Danny," Jax said, a bit snappishly. In all honesty, she didn't like it either. New York seemed to keep following her to Hawaii, and it was getting old fast. But she wasn't going to stop doing her job.

"Are we even going to talk about it?" Danny said, looking at Jax in the rear view mirror.

"Of course, we're talking about it, I've only agreed to help with the operation; I haven't agreed to do any driving or even revive the Jade cover," Jax said, looking out the window.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Danny said.

"There's nothing else to talk about," Jax said.

"The hell there isn't," Danny said, his hands beginning their agitated contribution to the conversation. "Jax, it was at the end of that op . . . they called me to the hospital because you were taking way too long to regain consciousness, and you had water in your lungs, and everyone in this car knows that wasn't an accident, and it wasn't a perp that tossed you over the bridge."

"Leave it alone, Danny," Jax said, her voice low and with more than a hint of warning.

"No way," Danny insisted. "You're being asked to reinvent a cover that almost got you killed the last time; we're going to talk about it."

"Damn it, Danny," Jax said. "It was years ago. I'm fine; just leave it alone. I'm not your rookie anymore."

Danny started to argue again, but Steve interrupted. "We'll leave it alone," he said quietly, his eyes meeting Jax's in the mirror. She sighed in relief. "For now," he added, looking at Danny.

()()()()()()()()

Jax settled behind the wheel of the Camaro with a sigh. She'd kicked both Steve and Danny out, much to their dismay, citing the need for peace and quiet and no distractions while she reacquainted herself with the specific demands of driving.

"Shut up," she'd said mildly, as they both smirked, watching her carefully save the location of the administration building into the GPS. The last thing she needed was to get lost on an Army base. It was bad enough when she'd gotten turned around on a run in Steve's neighborhood and had to be fetched by Grover.

Now, she was speeding along the curves at the back of the base. There was no housing here, no schools, just training grounds. Thankfully no live round exercises were scheduled for today, so she didn't have to worry about anything exploding around her. She released a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and pressed down on the gas . . .

" _Why do you love it so much, Jacq?" Billy asked. He'd snuck out of the house to pick her up - again - when one of his friends called him. "You gotta quit sneaking out, running with those guys."_

" _Billy, they're your friends. I'm safe with them," she rolled her eyes._

" _With them, yeah, but not with the guys they race against. And not with the cops. And definitely not with Dad."_

" _When is Dad sober enough to realize we're not home? Tell me, Billy. When was the last time he would have noticed. And Mom is too looped out on sleeping pills."_

" _Okay, fine, but you're changing the subject. I get sneaking out. Why racing?" Billy insisted._

_She shrugged. "It makes me feel, I don't know . . . stronger. More in control."_

" _I thought that was what the martial arts classes were for," he teased._

" _That's if I lose," she said, "and my big brother can't get to me fast enough to save my ass."_

_Billy shook his head. "We gotta find a better way for you to feel strong and in control, if that's what you need, Jacq. You really should consider fire academy."_

" _I'll think about it," she said. "It would piss Dad off."_

" _Well, there you go," he laughed._

She rolled her neck as she came out of a sharp curve. The tension that she carried there as part of the job was starting to release; just as it always had, turning loose in a fast car seemed to help her relax. Spotting a small, empty patch of tarmac ahead, she mentally selected a space and aimed, pressing even harder on the gas.

" _You've got to be able to slingshot the car into the space, have it in park, engine off, and filing your nails before the cops turn the corner," Salinas had explained. The night before, she'd bested him for the first time. Her superiors had warned her that if he felt his status as an alpha racer was threatened, her cover would do no good. So instead of collecting the cash, she'd asked for advice._

_Now she found herself in the driver's seat, Salinas Rivera next to her, teaching her to evade cops._

" _Again," he commanded. They were on an abandoned lot, two bedraggled cones marking her target. She'd knocked them over repeatedly. She was fast - and fearless - in a race; but she'd always relied on outrunning the cops. Being able to finesse a car into space was a new task._

_She shot forward, biting her lip in determination, and with her eye fixed on the space, pulled the wheel sharply and braked._

" _Damn it to hell," she muttered, as her rear bumper knocked over the cone. One of Rivera's men laughed from his seat on the hood of his car, and came to put it back up._

_Rivera nodded back at the end of the lot, and she drove back in that direction. As she set up for another try, he placed his hand over hers on the gear stick._

" _Jade," he said, and she turned to look at him. He tucked her inky black hair behind her ear, then pulled the flat rim cap off his head, and put in on her, backwards, to hold her hair out of her face. "You're a hell of a driver. Stop trying so hard, and just feel it." He smacked the back of the hat lightly. "And make sure you can see where you're going."_

_This time, the car slid perfectly into place. She felt the familiar surge of adrenaline; knew that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dilated with the thrill of mastering the skill._

_Rivera nodded and a dry chuckle escaped his normally impassive expression. "Okay, you'll do." He got out of the car and came around to the driver's side. "This settle my account, Jade?" The coldness in his eyes unnerved her. She remembered the warning: don't make him feel threatened. As his man came around to the passenger side of her car - unlocked, of course - she deliberately looked down. Submissive._

_She took off his hat and held it out to him through the window. "I'm sure that I'm now in your debt, Salinas," she said._

_He placed the hat back on her head. His smile seemed genuine now, and his eyes warm. "Keep it. It seems to bring you luck." He nodded at his man, who reluctantly stood up from the threatening pose he'd assumed at the window._

_When she was twelve blocks away, she noticed that her hands were still shaking._

Jax looked up, pleased to see that she had slung the car close, if not perfectly, into the intended spot. She couldn't actually remember driving the car, so she did it again, and then again, for good measure.

When she arrived back at the administration building, she sat in the driver's seat for a minute, until Steve and Danny came out.

"Hey, babe," Danny said, leaning a bit cautiously into the open driver's side window. "Your hands are shaking a little."

Jax looked down, then back up at Danny, and past him, to Steve. "Adrenaline," she shrugged. "Let's go."

()()()()()()()()

When they arrived back at the palace, Agent Davidson was gone, but Grover was still there, with Chin and Kono at the console, looking over some files. As they came off the elevator, they split up; Steve joining the others, Danny into his office, and Jax detouring to the locker rooms.

Kono hesitated, then went to Danny.

"Hey, babe," Danny said, as he listlessly shuffled some papers around on his desk.

"Danny," Kono began, "look, I'm not going to pry. But it's obvious, the way you reacted today . . . something about Jax's undercover op wasn't good. I just . . . if you need to talk, you know, just to share some of the load with a friend, I'm here for you." She shrugged. "I mean, usually you go to Steve, and I know you and Jax are close . . . but if it's too close, and you need someone else. I'm here."

"Thanks, Kono," Danny said, rubbing his hand over his face. "That obvious, hunh?"

"Oh, brah," Kono laughed. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, Danny, it's why we love you. Come on, let's get you and Steve caught up."

As the six of them gathered around the console again, Grover addressed Jax.

"I sent Agent Davidson on home, Jax, because, well, he was bugging me a little," Grover said, "and also because I don't want you being manipulated or pressured into doing this. You should know that MS-13 is actively recruiting former and new members of The Company; and they've upped their game from drugs and guns to human trafficking. Homeland has evidence that a lot of minors, especially girls, are not associated with these gangs by choice. Some of them seem to be disappearing off the island; and disappearing from Tokyo as well. This is high-stakes, Officer Nolan; we'd be throwing you back into the lion's den."

"Is it the best way?" Jax asked quietly.

"Maybe, maybe not. It isn't the only way, and for someone to say so is manipulation," Grover said. "And for you to think so is hubris, young lady."

Jax grinned.

"How did you feel driving today?" Grover asked.

"It was good. I think I can pull it off, but I'll need a little time. And a car," she added.

"Okay, then, we'll proceed," Grover said, nodding. "Sleep on it tonight, we'll give Agent Davidson an answer in the morning."

"And if she needs to pull the plug?" Steve asked, crossing his arms and facing Grover.

"She lets _me_ know," Grover replied. "And I take it to Agent Davidson."

Steve and Danny both nodded; if not satisfied, then at least mollified. Jax and Kono exchanged a glance: _boys_.

As they started shutting down and gathering up to head home, Chin touched Steve gently on the shoulder. "Steve, stop by my office a minute?" he asked quietly.

Steve nodded, and in a few minutes, while the others were looking over Danny's shoulder at a picture from Grace, he slipped into Chin's office quietly.

"What is it, Chin?" Steve asked, curious.

Chin hesitated, then picked up a file from his desk. It was freshly printed, in a new folder marked "Salinas Rivera", in Chin's distinctive, bold script.

He held out the file to Steve. "She calls him by his first name, Steve. Now, I'm not saying what that means. But your father always told me that it meant something, when a cop called a perp by their first name. I just thought you should have the file." Chin paused. "I hope I'm not out of line."

 _Don't take the file. Plausible deniability. Or just denial. Go with denial,_ his brain offered. But he shook his head slowly and reached out his hand anyway. "Not out of line, Chin, I appreciate it."

"You'd noticed already," Chin observed.

"Yeah," Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Danny did, too. So, yeah, man, obviously you're not out of line. Thanks for pulling the file, though."

"For what it's worth, Steve," Chin said, as he shut down his computer, "it's been a lot of years. 2004 - she wasn't even as old as Kono was when we recruited her. And Agent Davidson," Chin made a dismissive motion with his hand, "is just another bureaucrat."

Steve looked at him, surprised. "Damn it, that obvious?"

"Only to someone who caught you under the bleachers with Stacey Bentridge," Chin said, smiling. "Go on, get out of here. You're wound tighter than Kamekona on a diet."

"Thanks, Chin," Steve said, tucking the file under his arm and heading for the elevator.

Jax and Danny were waiting for him. "I think today's turn of events warrants comfort food," Danny said. "Italian take-out, my treat, your place?"

"You're the best, Danno," Jax said, kissing Danny on the cheek.

"Really? He's the best," Steve protested mildly.

"You're the best at other things," Jax amended, shooting him a loaded glance while Danny groaned in mock dismay.

()()()()()()()()

They enjoyed their dinner by the water; the sound of the waves and the breeze made it worth the extra trouble to balance their take-out trays and their glasses of wine.

Danny gathered the empty trays and refilled their glasses, and settled back into the chair as the setting sun bathed the back yard in a warm glow.

"You gonna talk to us, Jax?" Danny asked gently, looking out over the water.

"You tag teaming me, Danny?" Jax replied, but her voice was slow, mellowed by fatigue and alcohol. It occurred to her that maybe that had been Danny's plan, but she was too tired to care or argue.

"No one's tag teaming anyone," Steve assured her. "We just want to be sure you're okay."

"Guys, I'm fine," Jax said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the chair. "That was a long, long time ago."

"Same cover you're getting ready to use now, same kind of op. Even more dangerous," Danny observed.

"Yeah, but . . . look, it wasn't so much about the op, okay?" Jax said dismissively. "It had only been three years, it was coming up on the anniversary. I just . . . I got a little lost. I was deep under cover, I didn't have much support. I couldn't even make it to your family Labor Day picnic, remember, Danny?"

"Yeah, I do," Danny said.

"I didn't have much to look forward to," Jax said slowly, "after the op. I do now."

Steve reached over and took her hand, gently brushing his thumb over the faint scars that criss-crossed her knuckles. The lines were thin, but pale against her skin which was slowly but surely turning golden in her months on the island.

"You're sure, then," he said quietly, and studied her as she nodded her assent.

"We'll have your back, you know that, right?" Danny said. "That's why Grover got Five-O in on the Homeland op. We'll find a way to back you up, Jax."

()()()()()()()()

He was tempted to wait until she'd fallen asleep, and then look at the file. But he'd learned, sometimes the hard way, that secrets - especially in his line of work - usually came back to bite someone on the ass.

He started a pot of coffee, smiling, as he always did, at the memory of those early days with Jax in his house. She'd sighed appreciatively every time he'd given her coffee. He'd since cataloged several of her expressive sighs, including a couple that he didn't intend for anyone other than himself to ever hear.

Jax came back downstairs, sporting his old Annapolis t-shirt and her usual gym shorts. She'd used an elastic band to loosely capture her auburn waves, which had curled impressively in the evening humidity. And then there were the glasses . . .

 _Hell yeah,_ his brain contributed the predictable, completely unoriginal response.

"You okay?" he asked, nodding at the glasses. He loved the hot librarian look, but hated that it usually was an indication of fatigue and pain.

"Glare today, driving," Jax answered simply, reaching for the battered and familiar bottle of Motrin. They laugh off their injuries at work, but Steve picks up the economy size of the pain reliever almost monthly. "I'm okay, just a little headache. Oh, yay, coffee . . . and . . ."

She stopped short, looking at the file.

"Why do you have this?" she asked, not meeting Steve's eyes as she poured a cup of coffee.

"Because you call Salinas Rivera by his first name," he answered honestly. "All the cases we've talked about, I've never heard you do that."

"So what does the file say?" Jax asked, feigning nonchalance and taking a sip of coffee, wincing as it scalded her tongue.

"I haven't looked at it yet," Steve said. "I wanted to ask you first."

"Oh, come on, McGarrett, you disappoint me. I'm surprised you didn't just dope me up and let me spill it. That's how you find out most of my dirty little secrets," she snapped. "Go ahead, read the damn file. I doubt very seriously that it's going to satisfy your curiousity; there's not much to say. He was a fast driving, hardened, gang criminal who died young; and few mourned his loss. He had two names that sounded like last names, or first names, or what the hell ever. Make of it what you will what I called him."

Steve stood in stunned silence as Jax put her coffee cup in the sink and went out the back door. He reached for the file, then shook his head and went out the door empty handed. The sun had almost set, but there was still enough light to make out Jax, standing at the edge of the water.

He deliberately made what he hoped was adequate noise as he walked down the beach behind her - he'd learned, for both their sakes, not to startle her. He reached out and put a gentle hand on her shoulder as he said her name quietly.

"Jax."

The violent flinch and strangled whimper revealed that he hadn't, actually, made enough noise. It had been a few weeks since she'd last startled so badly, but it still happened, especially when she was tired or distracted. Steve had to remind himself not to take it personally. He wanted to go back and make O'Neil suffer every damn time it happened. It was easier, really, when she punched him. That at least gave them something to laugh about.

He reached out, carefully, and brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. She leaned into his touch and he felt something tight and painful in his chest loosen. Whatever this was, then, it would be okay.

"Sorry I scared you," he murmured.

"I'm putting a bell around your neck," she threatened, not for the first time. Her voice was raspy with fatigue and emotion.

"I'm not sorry for doing my job, though," he said, "or for making sure you take something when you're in excruciating pain, or for trying to protect you. Don't ask me to apologize for those things, because I won't."

She nodded, kicking at the sand with her toes.

"I should have just asked you, and not brought the file home," he continued. "And I'm not going to force you to talk about anything. I'll listen, though, without judgment, if you do. So will Danny. Or Chin, or Kono."

"I wish . . . " she started, and then stopped.

"What, Jax," he prompted.

"It would have been better if you and Danny didn't know," she said. "I'm sorry. That you know. And that I accused you of doping me. That was . . . I know that's not how it happened. But I'm sorry that I ever took the drugs, and I wish you didn't know."

"Is that why you refused to take anything when you came home from the hospital, after the day of Gracie's field trip? You were afraid of what you might say?" Steve asked.

Jax bit her lip, hesitating, and he brushed his thumb over it, tugging it gently out from between her teeth before he lowered his head and kissed her.

"I wondered about that," he said. "God, Jax, why do you do that to yourself? Don't you get it? Nothing - nothing you say, nothing about your past, none of it will change anything between us. You think I don't have crap from my past? Years in the SEALs, in Naval Intelligence. There's messy stuff. I get it."

She nodded, kicking at the sand again. A realization struck Steve.

"It's not just me, though, right? Danny. You worry about what Danny will think," he said, starting to put more pieces together.

"He trained me," she said, "I don't want . . . some of the stuff. He'd be disappointed."

"Disappointed. In you?"

"Yeah. And he'd blame himself. When he found out about . . . he was so hurt, and I never meant to hurt him," Jax said, her voice shaking. She impatiently brushed at her eyes.

Steve took her gently by the shoulders and looked into her eyes, the fading rays of the sun giving him just enough light to see her face. He was tired of all of them walking on eggshells around this thing, and if she was going to work this new case, some things had to be said out loud and set straight.

"Jax," he began, keeping his voice soft and even. "Danny was devastated when he found out that you'd tried to end your life. But not because you let him down, or hurt him. Because he cares so much about you. And yes, he blames himself for not picking up on what had happened. Because in hindsight, he can see it, and he's having a hard time forgiving himself for not seeing it then. That's on him to figure out, and he will. The best way for him to be okay is for you to be okay - and you are not going to be okay if you're trying to hold everything in and protect everyone."

"Wow. You sound like Danny," Jax said.

"Well, he's pretty smart about this stuff, and I've picked up a few things," Steve said, smiling down at her. "Don't tell him I said that."

"He'd be impossible to live with," Jax said. She shivered slightly, as the air cooled.

"Come here," Steve said, pulling her to him. He pulled on the elastic in her hair and it tumbled free. He tangled his hand in it, breathing in the familiar gunpowder and honeysuckle scent. "I'm sorry that things were so bad for you, then," he whispered in her ear. "But I'm so glad that you're here, with me, now."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He lifted her easily and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing a line across his collarbone, and chuckling darkly when his breath hitched and he lost his footing for a moment.

"I'm really, really glad I'm here with you now," she mumbled against his neck, as he balanced her easily with one hand, and locked the back door with the other. He was vaguely aware of a half dozen questions still unanswered, but at the moment, none of them seemed nearly as important as getting her upstairs and showing her at least a few good reasons she had to be happy to be alive.


	31. Jade 3

"You're thinking very loudly," Jax commented, curled up in her usual position in the passenger seat of Steve's Silverado.

"Davidson," Steve said. "I'm not sure I trust him. Or like him."

Jax studied him for a moment. "Why?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think I like the way he looked at you."

"Hmm. Is that why you put your hand on my ass on the way to the elevator, Smooth Dog?"

"You know what . . . never mind."

Jax laughed as she jumped out of the truck and fell in next to Steve as they walked into the palace. He stopped her just short of the front door, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"You're sure? No one will fault you if you decide not to do this," he said.

"It's not just drugs and guns passed off to consenting adults, now, Steve," she replied. "You heard Davidson; we've got kids coming up missing. I have to try to help. You understand that, right?"

"Of course I do, ku'uipo," he said, squeezing her shoulder.

They walked into the palace, turning on lights and booting up the computers. The others arrived shortly after, and soon the office was humming with activity as they pulled up the files provided by Agent Davidson the day before. Grover was the last to arrive, bearing a tray of steaming coffees.

"Thanks, Captain," Jax said, wrapping her hands around the cup.

"Umm hmm. Now, what have you decided?" Grover asked.

"I'm in, Captain," Jax said.

"Okay, Agent Davidson will be here in about twenty minutes," Grover said.

Danny nodded at Grover. "Look, all due respect to Homeland Security, but I want everything - and I mean everything - to come through Chin, you and me. Chin knows The Company and you and I have experience with MS-13."

"I agree; that's why I insisted on moving this operation into Five-O territory," Grover said.

"And that's a condition that Homeland was happy to honor," Agent Davidson said, as he strode off the elevator.

 _A suit. He's wearing a suit. In Hawaii. There's a good reason not to like him_ , Steve's brain offered.

"So, is Jade making a comeback?" Davidson asked.

"In some capacity, yes," Jax said. "I need more time to know if I can drive. And I'll need a car. The Camaro felt pretty good but it's not a street worthy."

"Hey," Danny protested half-heartedly.

"We'll have something for you," Davidson said.

"No," Jax said. "If I'm driving, I'm choosing. And doing the wrench work myself."

"Jade, we don't -"

"Wait. What? What did you just call her?" Steve said, stepping into Davidson's space. "You address her as Officer Nolan."

Davidson put his hands up. "Okay, take it down a notch, McGarrett. I've been studying her file for weeks. Honest mistake."

"Alright," Chin interrupted, "we've established that Jax will choose a car. What else needs to be done?"

The rest of the day passed quickly, with files on current persons of interest to read, locations of suspicious activity to identify, and finally, a thorough review of the cover Jax had used seven years previously.

Chin whistled as he flicked through the paperwork. "This is one of the best covers I've ever seen. No wonder it's held up for all these years."

"Yeah, NYPD Vice is no joke," Jax said.

"Dropped out of high school, minor charges for speeding, possession . . . assault?" Danny read off the screen.

Jax shrugged. "They said the closer they kept it to the truth, the easier it would be."

"Yeah, well, it's not too far off, babe," Danny said, winking at Jax.

"I never got a speeding ticket," Jax reminded him.

"Because they couldn't catch you," Danny said. "So, what has Jade been up to for seven years?"

Davidson pulled up a Homeland Security file which listed the various locations of supposed sightings or interactions with Jade. "Homeland followed this almost a year before even realizing that Jade was in fact an NYPD undercover. You can see here, in reverse order, chatter that we picked up from online racing forums, arrest interviews, more. Most recently, Tokyo, before that, Los Angeles, all the way back to Salinas Rivera's funeral in New York in the spring of 2005."

Danny and Steve exchanged a brief glance, which went unnoticed by everyone but Kono.

"Okay, but if Homeland figured out it was a cover, then it's possible that The Company or MS-13 could figure it out, too," Jax pointed out.

"Unlikely," Davidson dismissed. "Homeland has some of the sharpest minds and most sophisticated resources available. These people are thugs."

"Yet you've asked for a police officer's help, because you can't get anyone inside," Grover argued. "Don't overestimate your abilities or underestimate theirs."

"What is your plan for putting Jax back into cover and into the community?" Steve asked. "We need to discuss surveillance, contact, and extraction plans."

"There won't be any surveillance, and zero contact, except with me," Davidson said. "I'll give you an extraction plan if you insist."

 _Oh boy, here we go,_ thought Danny.

"Oh, the hell you say," Steve said, stepping into Davidson's space again. "You can leave right now and go back to Homeland with your tail between your legs if you think for one minute we're sending her in there unprotected."

"She did perfectly fine on her own last time," Davidson argued.

Steve tried, but even his reflexes and strength weren't enough to prevent the solid right hook that Danny connected with Agent Davidson's jaw. Davidson struck back and landed a solid punch of his own, before Grover, Steve, and Chin managed to get between the two. Kono and Jax looked at each other and sighed, mostly unimpressed with the display of testosterone.

"I see you've earned your reputation as cowboys," Davidson said, wrenching his arm irritably away from Grover.

"Watch yourself," Grover said, clamping his huge hand in warning around Davidson's bicep. "Williams is the one of the bunch that pays the most attention to protocol."

"Let's all take the rest of the day and go to our own corners," Chin suggested. "Why don't we work on surveillance and contact protocol here, and Agent Davidson, I suggest you go back to your office and work on . . . creating more PDFs or something."

Davidson huffed and straightened his jacket. "I'll be back in the morning to look over your suggestions," he said, walking toward the elevator. Steve kept his hand on Danny's chest until the elevator doors closed.

There was a moment of silence in Davidson's wake.

"Look," Kono said quietly. "I hope that our friendship gives me enough credibility to step up and be the person who calls out the elephant in the room. What is it that we need to know, really, about this undercover op, Jax? I've never seen Danny go off on anyone like that unless someone he loves was seriously threatened. Davidson said that you did fine on your own, which in most circumstances, you and I both know we'd consider a huge compliment. Why wasn't it? What happened?"

Danny and Steve tensed, unsure of how Jax would respond to the question.

"You're learning from Danny, I see," Jax said, "that's some good detective work, Kono. Chin, you have the file on Salinas Rivera? The one you sent with Steve last night?"

Chin nodded, and his agile fingers quickly opened the file on the console. Jax stepped up and flicked a document onto the plasma, keeping her eyes down.

"Salinas Rivera was a person of interest to NYPD Vice. They suspected that he was responsible for a significant amount of drug traffic and resale of illegal weapons used in gang-related violence," she began. "He was impossible to pin down, though. He also ran a garage and was a known street racer; so a lot of the money could be explained through those activities - illegal, yes, but not what they wanted to take him down for. Salinas was cautious to an extreme. They had him under surveillance - stakeouts, taps, the whole nine yards - nothing."

"So, they sent you in to get evidence," Grover said, nodding. It made sense.

"Yeah, it became obvious that they'd have to have someone inside. My name came up," Jax shrugged.

"Someone remembered you racing in Jersey?" Danny guessed.

"One of the vice cops was from Jersey, remembered my brother's friends, remembered that I ran with them. Made the connection." She looked up at Danny. "We were clean, though. It was all about the cars for us; no drugs, no violence. Not ever."

"I know, babe," Danny said quietly.

"So, they asked if I would go in, created the best cover for me that they could," Jax continued. "It took a while, but I managed to get close to Salinas, and I was able to feed them some useful information."

"How? Davidson indicated there was no contact," Steve said.

"Email. My only contact was through email. I used a cyber cafe and never kept a laptop in my possession. To my knowledge, no one ever found out," Jax said.

"That's what Homeland's intel indicates," agreed Chin. "There doesn't seem to be any indication that MS-13 ever suspected your cover of working with law enforcement."

"How long were you undercover?" Grover asked.

"About five months," Jax said.

Danny winced. "Five months? You were UC for that long and I didn't realize . . . we didn't speak for five months?"

"No, I called you every month. Picked up a prepaid, checked in, tossed it," Jax said. "My sergeant wasn't happy about the idea, but I convinced him that if you went too long without hearing from me, you'd start asking questions, draw attention."

Danny shook his head in dismay. "Still, babe, how did I not realize?"

"You and Rachel were having a rough summer, as I recall," Jax said gently.

"That's right," Danny sighed. "She'd taken Gracie to England right before they called me to the hospital."

"Hospital? That's right; you said you ended up injured and off the case," Grover said. "What happened, kiddo? You said something about a rookie mistake?"

"Yeah," Jax said, taking a deep breath. "I'd managed to get close; not running with his crew, but playing up to him - asking him for help, asking for advice, that sort of thing. I was fast, but I'd never had a reason to learn some of the more, um, evasive methods that Salinas depended on, so there was plenty he could teach me. We had reason to think that a big delivery of drugs was about to happen, and they were trying to get to his supplier. So, I found an excuse to go over to his garage, get some help with my car, see what I could find out."

Jax paused, and flicked a picture up onto the plasma. It was a police evidence photo; a young girl with frightened eyes, her face bruised and her lip bleeding.

"Salinas' men had a girl at the garage . . . he wasn't there," Jax said, looking down at the console table. "They were so proud of themselves; he didn't know anything about it, it was like they'd brought him a treat or something. I argued with them, distracted them until he got there."

Steve felt a curl of dread starting in the pit of his stomach, crawling up and squeezing the air out of his lungs . . .

"And when he got there?" Danny asked quietly.

"I was so angry . . . that poor girl. I was just trying to think of a way to get her out of there; thought if I made Salinas' men look bad, he'd turn on them. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. I slipped up, said that clearly he wasn't in control of his crew if they could have someone there without his knowledge. Challenged his authority in front of his crew."

Jax fell silent, fiddling idly with the console.

"He reestablished his authority by hurting you?" Grover guessed.

Jax shook her head. "Salinas never laid a finger on me. He left. Nodded his head at his second, to let him know he was leaving me for them to deal with. Turned and left. I never saw him again." She swallowed hard, cleared her throat. "Thankfully, there was some, um, confusion and chaos afterward, and the girl got away. Got out before . . . well, before it got too bad."

There was a beat of silence, and Jax felt every eye in the room on her.

"So, anyway," she said, forcing her tone lighter, "that was a good outcome for her, but I'd blown my in with Salinas. Even though my cover was still intact, I was beat up pretty bad, had to be pulled off the case. They had enough to bring him down, but unfortunately not his supplier. The cover was a success; the operation, not so much. Getting the crap beat out of me for what looked like a personal falling-out and disappearing before he was arrested saved my cover."

"And Rivera was dead about six months later," Chin observed.

"Yeah, he was being held on the lesser charges while they continued to build the case. About a week before trial, he was killed in jail. The DA says it was a rival gang; his crew said he would have named dirty cops. No one knows for sure, but my money would be on the supplier. I never caught a whiff of police corruption."

"Were you really at his funeral?" Steve asked quietly, the expression in his eyes unreadable.

Jax shrugged. "Yeah. I, um . . . didn't think anyone would see or notice, but I went in cover just in case. I'm not sure why I went." She studied the toe of her boot as she kicked it against the floor.

"Maybe, because before he betrayed you, Salinas Rivera was something of an unorthodox mentor," Chin suggested kindly. "Five months undercover . . . no contact with the rest of your world . . . even an experienced cop would have struggled, Jax," he added, shooting a glance at Steve.

Jax nodded, keeping her eyes down on the console table. The plasma screen was stilled on a grainy photo showing an overcast cemetery with a small group of mourners standing around a grave, and almost cut off at the edge of the frame, a slight young woman with inky black hair.

"So, anyway, if MS-13 is upping their game to include grabbing more young girls, then yeah, I'm gonna cooperate in any way I can to stop them," Jax said, abruptly closing the file. She looked up at Kono. "I'm going to need clothes - I need second-hand, thrift, preferably with stuff that could have been picked up in Tokyo, since that's the most recent 'sighting'. Can you help me with that?"

Kono nodded. She recognized the look in Jax's eyes; the one that said she was desperate to get away from the guys and the inevitable questions, and concern, and pity.

"Yeah, I know some places. Wanna go now, before they close?" Kono asked, glancing at Steve, who nodded absently, his eyes still fixed on Jax.

"Good idea," Jax said, looking at Grover and adding, "If that's okay, Captain?"

Grover hesitated. "Officer Nolan . . . " he started, but he must have caught something in her expression, because he stopped. "Yeah, Nolan, go ahead. We'll pick back up in the morning with a car, and we'll start going over surveillance and back-up for you."

Jax turned, refusing to meet Steve and Danny's eyes, and hustled to the elevator before they could say anything to her. Kono slipped in behind her.

"Jax," Kono said. "I'm not going to push. But I'm here, if you need to talk about what happened in New York, okay? Now," she said, pressing the ground floor button. "Let's go make use of my Five-O expense card, give Steve something to explain to the governor at the end of the month, shall we?"

Jax laughed in delight and relief, and in a completely uncharacteristic move, grabbed Kono for a quick hug. "Thanks," she whispered.

()()()()()()()

Danny held it in until the elevator doors closed, and then let loose with a string of expletives, while Steve stood silently, still looking at the elevator.

"Feel better?" Chin asked, when Danny fell silent.

"Not even close," Danny said, his voice rough with emotion. "Think about training Kono, sending her over to HPD, and then ten years later she comes back hurt, and you think that was it, that was the worst that could have happened, and then you find out that apparently you've only started peeling back the layers of shit."

Steve, still silent, turned to walk into his office.

"Steve," Chin started.

"Just - I need a minute," Steve said, not looking back at them.

"You didn't know," Grover said quietly to Danny. "You couldn't have known, Danny, not if Nolan didn't want you to." Grover turned and addressed Chin. "Come on, let's get out of here for tonight, my friend. Let's give everybody some space, regroup in the morning."

"You okay with him, Danny?" Chin asked, tilting his head in the direction of Steve's office.

"Yeah, I got it," Danny said wearily. "See you guys tomorrow, then."

Danny went to Steve's office, and in an unusual display of restraint, knocked. Steve smiled at him and waved him in.

"You okay, big guy?" Danny asked, sinking wearily into a chair.

Steve held up his phone so Danny could see a picture of Jax and Kono, smiling goofily.

"I sent Jax a text, asked if she was okay," Steve explained. "I get this back."

Danny laughed. "She's a Jersey girl, Steve. She's tough."

"Or so she wants us to believe," Steve added.

"The last time I saw her brother was July of 2001. You know the last thing I said to him? 'Billy, don't worry about Jacq' - that's what Billy called her; Jax came later, with Gracie, about the same time as Danno - 'don't worry,' I said, 'I'll keep an eye on her, look after her; I'll take good care of her, Billy'. That's what I promised him, Steve. Not two months before he died, I promised him and I -" Danny broke off.

"Danny, don't do this to yourself," Steve said, coming out from behind his desk and putting his hand on Danny's shoulder. "She's made her own choices, her own decisions."

"You know why she calls him 'Salinas', right? Because Billy was gone, and Jake, and I was wrapped up in my problems with Rachel. So that bastard was the closest thing she had to friend and family right then. Damn it, Steve, she was so alone that she - and he turned her over to his men like she was -" Danny broke off and stood up abruptly, and bolted for the locker room.

"Danny -" Steve called out, and caught up to him in a few long strides, just in time to hear him retch violently. Steve winced in sympathy and stood just inside the locker room door, waiting patiently for Danny to come out of the stall.

Danny splashed water on his face and rinsed his mouth out, spitting into the sink.

"Danny, you don't know . . . " Steve said.

"Don't I? Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Steve," Danny said tiredly.

Danny splashed more water on his face, but he wasn't fooling Steve.

"Come'ere, Danny," Steve said, grabbing him in a rough hug.

Danny fisted his hands in Steve's shirt. "She's like my baby sister, Steve. And I have sisters, so I know. You know, you have Mary. God, Steve . . . I'm sorry, this is hard for you, too." Danny pulled himself together and let go of Steve.

Steve nodded, and squeezed Danny's shoulder. "Yeah, but I didn't know her then, so, it's different. O'Neil . . . I got to watch her take him out." Steve fell silent for a moment. "I'm sure there's a record somewhere, of the names."

Danny looked at him quizzically.

"Of Rivera's crew," Steve said. Danny's eyebrows shot up. Steve's eyes revealed a dangerous coldness that he'd only caught a glimpse of once or twice before.

"Let's table that discussion," Danny said, in his best, practiced calm-the-SEAL-down voice, "and head home, okay partner?"

Steve looked at him for a moment, as if he were actually weighing the options: go home, or go plan a covert mission.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Kono will be bringing Jax home pretty soon," he reminded Steve.

"Oh, yeah," Steve brightened. "Yeah, let's go home."

"So glad we settled that," Danny muttered, as they headed to the elevator.

()()()()()()()()

"I'm not sure I can eat," Danny said quietly, sipping his Longboard while Steve fired up the grill.

They'd driven back to Steve's house, and changed into board shorts. Steve had smiled when Danny grabbed his bag out of his car. Most islanders carried beachwear everywhere they went; always ready for a swim. Eventually, Danny would lose the tie, he put money on it.

"Kono will be hungry," Steve said, smiling, "even if no one else is."

"That is true," Danny nodded. "Surfing must burn a lot of calories. Speak of the devil, I hear her car." Danny stepped out to the side yard and waved, calling out to them. "Kono, stay for food?"

"Yeah, thanks!" Kono replied enthusiastically. She and Jax grabbed several bags from the trunk, along with her duffel, and headed inside. "Where do you want the clothes, Jax?" she asked, as they went through the front door. "Upstairs?"

Jax shook her head. "No. Guest room. I don't want that stuff anywhere near . . . " she paused and took a breath. "I need to keep it away from my real life." She shoved a bag at Kono and practically fled up the stairs. When she came back down to the kitchen, Steve was coming in the back door.

"Ku'uipo," he murmured, reaching for her. The need to touch her, to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight, had been building since they'd reviewed the Salinas Rivera file.

She hesitated for a moment. "I don't want to talk about it right now," she warned. "I might not want to talk about it later, either."

"Okay," he whispered, burying his face in her hair. She sighed as he cradled her head against his chest, and even though she had no idea what his soft phrases of pidgin meant, she found them comforting just the same.

Kono had dumped the items on the guest bed and changed into her casual clothes from her duffel bag, then wandered, barefoot and quiet, into the kitchen, and her eyes lit up with delight. Jax was perched on a kitchen stool, her arms linked around Steve's waist, his hands tangled in her hair, kissing her as if his life depended on it.

"This is even better than the zoo field trips where we got to see the animals in their natural habitat getting it on," Kono observed.

Steve groaned, and rested his forehead against Jax's shoulder. She laughed sympathetically and patted the back of his head.

"I'm pretty sure Kono has an idea of how this works, babe," Jax said. "Go, cook meat over fire with Danny; Kono and I will bring out the salad and plates."

Kono helped gather dishware as Jax puttered with a salad.

"Jax," she said quietly, after a moment, "you're sure about doing this?"

"Yeah," Jax replied absently. "What, are we talking about putting pecans in the salad or . . . "

Kono laughed. "Reviving Jade. You're sure? I mean, just bringing the stuff in the house seemed pretty hard for you."

"I'll be okay, Kono. This isn't New York. I have you guys," Jax said.

"Totally," Kono said emphatically. "It won't be the same. We won't let it. You've got the best back-up anyone could ask for. Just . . . that Davidson guy? He creeps me out. All of us, even Grover. Watch your back, okay? Now, feed me, I'm starving . . . "

()()()()()()()()

Kono got a call from some friends alerting her to some unusually great sunset surfing conditions, and headed out after enthusiastically enjoying her meal.

"Told you, it's the surfing that allows her to eat like a linebacker and have a body like that," Danny said, looking wistfully at Kono's retreating form.

"Careful, Chin still has a shotgun," Steve warned.

"Noted," Danny said, tipping his bottle in Steve's direction. He frowned at the bottle.

"What's the matter?" Jax asked.

"I think this may be my fourth beer," Danny said. "I'll call a cab, just to be safe."

"Don't, Danny, just crash here tonight," Steve suggested. "The guest room is available again," he added, smirking.

Jax was suddenly quiet. "I, um, dumped some stuff in there. Let me go move it." She got up quickly and moved toward the house.

Steve and Danny exchanged glances.

"Give her space or go check on her?" Danny asked. "Your call, partner."

"She said she didn't feel like talking about it earlier . . . if she doesn't come back out in a few minutes, we'll go check," Steve suggested.

"Sounds good," Danny said, looking out over the water. "Hey, what's your take on this Agent Davidson?"

Steve glanced at Danny, surprised at the question. "Can't put my finger on it, but something about him doesn't sit right with me. You?"

"Same," Danny said, nodding.

"I didn't like the way he called her 'Jade'," Steve continued. "Something about it . . ."

"Yeah, that was . . . strange," Danny agreed. He glanced back at the house. "She's not coming back out."

Steve started to stand up, but Danny held up his hand. "You, ah, mind if I go talk to her? It's just . . . I can't shake this feeling of wondering what I missed, what I should have seen, back then."

"Yeah, Danno, of course," Steve said quickly. "But let me know if you need me, okay?"

()()()()()()()()

Jax had picked up the Rivera file from Steve's desk on her way through the house. She tossed it on the bed, some pictures sliding out, and opened the closet in the guest room. Like most rooms in the house, it still held bits and pieces of decades of the McGarrett life. John McGarrett, overwhelmed with the sudden death of his wife, had not known how to deal with her belongings, so most of her things had been packed up neatly and put in the attic. A few things deemed too sensitive to the heat and humidity were boxed, labeled, and left in the downstairs rooms. Steve and Mary had been sent away abruptly, so leftovers from their childhood, too, were lingering in the attic and closets. Steve had not even begun to deal with paring down his father's belongings, which were scattered everywhere.

And now, added to mix, was the box of random items from Jax's apartment, which Danny and his sister had boxed and labeled with "?". The other boxes of clothing and a few quality kitchen items had easily integrated into the rest of this house, but this box had come to rest in the guest room closet.

Jax pulled a knife from her pocket and carefully slit open the packing tape. She hesitated, then gently lifted the flaps, digging through the assorted odd items until she found the leather driving gloves she'd hoped had made it into the box. She held them in her hand for a minute, then set them aside, along with the items she'd picked up with Kono earlier. She started to fold the flaps of the box closed, and her breath caught as her eye fell on the edge of Salinas' flat-rimmed cap . . .

" _Here you go, babe, easy does it," Danny said, as he helped Jacqueline up the stairs to her apartment. With Rachel still in England, he'd taken a couple of days off work to help Jacqueline, fresh out of the hospital; her arm in a cast, and concussion checks for the next twenty-four hours._

" _Danny, I'm fine," she insisted, even though her muscles were screaming in protest._

" _I'll make some soup so you can take your meds," Danny said, as she wandered into her room to change into sweats. She rummaged through her closet, and the cap fell off a shelf. Bending carefully, she picked it up, turning it over in her hand._

" _Hey," Danny said, in the doorway. She jumped, and quickly shoved the cap at the far back corner of the closet. "Chicken noodle or tomato?"_

" _Um, chicken noodle, thanks," she said, and with that, began the task of compartmentalizing; carefully and deliberately locking away the last five months into a far back corner of her mind . . ._

"Hey," Danny said, in the doorway. She jumped, and tried to shove the cap back into the box, but her hand caught on the edge.

"Damn it, Danny, you scared the shit out of me," she complained, looking up at him.

Danny squatted down on the floor next to her, ignoring the protest of his knee. "What's up, babe?" Danny asked, gesturing at the items littering the floor and the bed, and gently putting his hand on Jax's, pulling it away from the box.

Jax shrugged. "Just going through some stuff for the undercover work," she said quietly, not meeting Danny's eyes. "Wanted to get it out of your way so you could sleep tonight."

"Umm hmm. And this?" Danny asked, gently nudging the cap.

"Danny," Jax said, her voice pleading. "Just leave it alone, okay?"

"Like I did back in 2004? When I was too caught up in my own problems to realize that you were in way over your head?" Danny shook his head.

"Danny, you came to the hospital, you took me back to my apartment, and you stayed with me for three days," Jax reminded him. "That was hardly caught up in your own problems."

"Yeah, except that I looked into your eyes doing a concussion check every four hours for the first twenty-four hours and I didn't see what was right in front of me," Danny argued.

Steve had come back inside, but stopped at the sound of their raised voices, and eased himself down quietly to sit on the stairs, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

"What do you want from me, Danny?" Jax asked, her voice weary. "I've already gone over the whole story with everyone today. Why can't you just leave this alone?"

"Because I don't want to risk losing you again," Danny said.

"It was seven years ago, Danny," Jax said. "Things are different now."

"I know, and I'm glad," Danny said quickly. "But you know you didn't go over the whole story, babe."

"You want the whole story, Danny, okay," Jax said, her voice quiet but intense. "This was his," she said, holding the cap up in Danny's face. "The day he taught me to slingshot a car into a parking space sideways, he put this on my head, backwards, to hold my hair out of my face. Is this the sort of thing you want to know, Danny? How I spent five months getting close to a criminal?"

Jax grabbed the file off the edge of the bed. She pulled out a picture of herself and Salinas Rivera, bent over under the hood of a car, working on the engine.

"You want to know why there are surveillance photos of us together? When I wasn't supposed to be having any contact with NYPD? Because they suspected that I was getting lost in the cover, so they sent someone to spy on me. Not help me out; not get me out. No, they just wanted to confirm that I was feeding them good intel, that I wasn't falling for my mark. Is that what you want to know, Danny?"

"They should have pulled you out, if they were worried," Danny said, taking the photo from her hands.

"Well, they didn't, because it was obvious that we weren't romantically involved," Jax continued. "I was getting good intel, gathering great evidence, and dutifully turning it over via email, meanwhile I had zero contact, not that there was anyone left to have contact with. I had to break protocol and defy orders to talk to you five times in five months. Salinas was the only person who . . . for five months, Danny."

"I get it, Jax," Danny said, reaching for her hand.

Jax jerked her hand away. "You get it? You get it, Danny? You get that I gained his trust, and then betrayed everything?"

Danny shook his head sadly. "Oh, babe, no, I get that _he_ gained _your_ trust, and then betrayed you. Terribly, and utterly. I get that you knew he was running drugs and guns, but you never in a million years thought he would let you get hurt, did you? And he did."

"Danny, stop," Jax pleaded.

"Rivera filled the void left by Billy, and Grace, and me, didn't he? Chin was right; he became your mentor. And then he turned on you, literally threw you to his pack," Danny said, his voice so low that Steve strained to hear him.

"I deserved it," Jax said quietly. "He didn't even know it, but I deserved it."

Steve closed his eyes and put his head between his hands. He'd sensed this from Jax, especially in her first weeks on the island, this sense of self-recrimination. Some of it he recognized as survivor's guilt, but this . . . he had no idea what to do with this. Not that he should even be sitting here overhearing any of this, but he couldn't tear himself away . . .

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard, and I've heard a lot. I'm from Jersey," Danny said, matter-of-factly.

Jax looked up at him in surprise.

"Yeah, you heard me," he continued. "Okay, so seven years ago, a very young, inexperienced, traumatized Jacqueline Nolan believed that she deserved for some bastard to hand her over to his thugs. But now, seven years later, the strong, confident, capable woman sitting here with me . . . what does she think?"

Steve's head shot up. _Okay, damn, Danny is actually really good at this,_ he thought.

"Danny, I . . . " Jax hesitated.

"You took up for a defenseless young woman. Rivera didn't know you were a cop, had no idea you'd been collecting evidence. He tossed you over to his crew because you stood up for someone weak and helpless. Did you deserve that, Jax?" Danny pressed.

"No," she said slowly. "No," she repeated firmly, with more confidence. "I didn't deserve it . . . I earned it."

"What? Okay, now that one you're going to have to explain," Danny said kindly.

"I was a cop. You're right, she was weak and helpless. I wasn't. I earned the privilege to defend her, to take her place," Jax said. "Because I could handle it and she couldn't. Except . . . when it was over, I couldn't handle it. Not right at that moment."

Danny stroked her cheek gently. "I'm so sorry babe," he said, scooting closer to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"I felt so completely and totally alone, Danny," she said quietly. "I was concussed, my arm was broken . . . I started walking and found myself at the bridge, and I just looked over at the water and it seemed . . . I just slipped over the edge. I wasn't really thinking about anything except that you would think it was line of duty, that you would be okay with that."

"Jax, look at me," Danny said earnestly, cupping her face and turning it gently to him. "I will never, never be okay with you not being okay. You got that?"

"I got it, Danny," Jax said.

"Good, so that is rule number one for going back in as Jade, right? You have to be okay," Danny said firmly. "Right Steve? Come help me up off the floor."

Jax laughed as Steve sputtered and scrambled and then appeared in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, you're not always a damn ninja," Danny groused. "We could see your ridiculously large feet sticking out into the hallway. Now," he said, reaching up his hand, "my knee is killing me, and I'm going to go crash on the sofa - no, don't argue, you clearly need this as a staging area, and I'm not going to interfere with your process."

Steve reached down a hand and hauled Danny up.

"I'm off to shower," Danny said, heading down the hall, "and I'll grab a blanket and pillow out of the hall closet."

Steve eased himself down onto the floor next to Jax. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he said quietly.

"It's okay," she said, idly shuffling some of the papers from Rivera's file. "I saw Danny look in the hall, I figured you were out there."

"Can I ask you one more question?" Steve asked, brushing her hair back from her face. "And you don't have to answer it," he added quickly.

Jax nodded.

"How did you get away? From Rivera's crew," he questioned.

"I didn't," she said.

"Someone came?" he asked.

"They let me go," she said, and he tilted his head quizzically at her. She hesitated, then sighed and continued. "They got tired. And bored," she said. "They just . . . laughed; shoved me out the door."

"Oh, shit, Jax," he breathed.

"I mean it," she said. "I earned the right to get that girl out of there. I'd do it again. I will do it again, if I need to."

Steve nodded, wrapping his arms around her carefully and holding her close. "I understand," he said, his fingers sliding through her hair. "You'll never have to do it alone, though. Never alone; never again."


	32. Jade 4

The next morning found the team, along with Grover and Jax, waiting impatiently by the console table in Five-O headquarters. Steve recognized Davidson's tactic of keeping them waiting as a subtle assertion of his control. The elevator finally dinged and Davidson strolled in, wearing yet another suit. When he inserted a flash drive into the port, and flicked the old files off the plasma with a flourish, Steve barely resisted rolling his eyes.

"So, we've established what worked for Jade's cover back in 2004, and reviewed the rumored sightings since. Here's what we're dealing with now," Davidson said, sliding new files onto the screen. "Homeland is looking most closely at an up-and-coming member of The Company, Lee Okada. His grandfather was suspected to be part of The Company, was under constant surveillance and observation by HPD, but he managed to avoid prosecution and conviction for any crimes."

"What does Homeland think Okada is into?" Grover asked.

"We suspect Okada of moving drugs between Tokyo and Honolulu," Davidson said, "and there's also suspicion that the same route and transport are being used to move some of these missing persons."

"Just suspicion? So no evidence yet," said Steve.

"What we have," Davidson said, putting a file on the screen, "are shipping manifests. Shipments arrive from Tokyo to Okada's restaurant and bar businesses - which, by the way, seem to rarely have customers but yet stay in operation. We think cocaine and heroin are coming in along with dishware, spices, and tea; and prime grade marijuana is going back out. But what we're more concerned about are some missing persons reports that seem to align with the return trips to Tokyo." He flicked his wrist, and four files appeared on the plasma: pictures of three young girls and a boy, none of them possibly over seventeen. "All reported missing within a week of departure of the cargo ship that delivered restaurant supplies to Okado."

"So why don't you arrest Okada, question him?" Danny asked. "And what do you mean - reported missing within a week? If Gracie went missing, there'd be a report filed within minutes."

"Within a week, because all of the missing persons reports were filed by teachers, guidance counselors, coaches - not parents. Street kids, kids who are couch surfing from friend to friend - it's easy for them to disappear and it sometimes goes unnoticed for days. And we don't have the evidence to arrest him - not nearly enough evidence for a federal, much less international, case," Davidson answered. "We need hard evidence: pictures, surveillance, and names of associates. We haven't been able to get anyone into Okada's inner circle. If Jade can get close to Okada, she can get what we need to take down the whole operation, not just Okada."

"What does this have to do with racing, and MS-13? I don't see the connection," Chin pointed out.

Davidson flashed more pictures onto the screen. "One of Okada's bars, The Last Oasis, is a popular destination for local street racers; many of whom are known or suspected to be part of The Company or MS-13. Street racing and this bar - that's the connection between the two gangs, and we have reason to believe that MS-13 is either trying to join forces with The Company or recruit some of their members."

"It didn't work very well when they tried that with the Yakuza," Steve said. "It blew up in their face." He turned to address Chin. "What do you think, Chin? Will The Company go for it or are we on the verge of more gang violence?"

Chin shook his head. "From what I remember of The Company, it could go either way. But, if Okada has influence with The Company, and he's welcoming MS-13 members into this bar, that's sending a powerful message of cooperation. The alternative, of course, is that MS-13 just knows where to get drugs, and The Company is happy to supply them."

"That's why we have to get someone inside The Company," Davidson said. "We need to know whether they are being assimilated into MS-13, or vice versa."

Jax looked at Danny and smiled; he tilted his head at her curiously. "What is it, babe?"

"You don't need someone inside The Company," she said, shaking her head at Davidson. _Where did they get this guy?_ "You need someone inside that bar, offering drinks and a sympathetic ear."

Grover and Danny glanced at each other and grinned.

"I like it," Grover said emphatically. "This gives us intel on both gangs."

"And it keeps Jax off the street and in a location where we can more easily provide back-up," Danny added.

Davidson pondered for a moment. This wasn't what he had in mind, but he couldn't deny the logic of the plan.

"Okay, but how do you plan to get in?" Davidson asked, dubious.

"I ran alongside MS-13 as Jade in New York. If your intel is solid, someone's going to pick up the trail here. MS-13 is friendly with The Company, racers look out for each other . . . a racer who can't drive needs a job, and isn't too picky. It plays," Jax explained.

The rest of the plan started to take shape, beginning with Jade's "arrival" from Tokyo on a cargo ship due to arrive the next day.

"First contact will be in twenty-four hours," Davidson said casually.

"Like hell," Steve growled.

"We have to assume that Jade will be noticed and watched - after all, that's the goal. So premature contact with any member of Five-O or HPD is going to jeopardize her cover," Davidson argued.

"We're not dropping Jax into the middle of two gangs and then sitting on our hands for twenty-four hours," Danny said hotly.

"Fine," Davidson said, "we'll have a contact set up at the Aqua Waikiki Wave Hotel, which is where she'll be staying."

"No way, brah," Kono protested vehemently, while Chin threw his hands up in disgust.

"It's a very likely point of contact," Davidson argued.

"Have you seen that place?" Steve demanded, incredulous.

"Guys," Jax interrupted. "Racers on the move stay at hostels. Like musicians and artists do. For someone who claims to have been studying the files," she said, turning on Davidson, "you know shit about this cover. Jade wasn't ever part of MS-13, she's not going to deliberately search them out. Contact would be incidental, and not initiated by her. And if she's been living off-grid and moving around for years, she knows how to avoid sketchy, dangerous hotels. Hostels are cheap, clean, and safe."

Chin nodded in satisfaction. "Polynesian Beach Club Hostel," he suggested. "It's next to Kuhio Beach Park, and we can set up one of the umbrella rentals as a contact point."

"You do realize this is Homeland's operation, right?" Davidson said, scowling.

"You do realize that Officer Nolan is a member of HPD SWAT, and voluntarily cooperating with Homeland, and can decline that opportunity at any moment, right?" Grover said, pulling himself up to his full imposing height and looking down impassively at Davidson.

"Our way or the highway," Steve said amicably, but his eyes were cold as he stared at Davidson, daring him to argue further.

"Fine," Davidson huffed. "So, Jade will 'arrive' on the cargo tomorrow; we even have her listed on the shipping manifest as kitchen crew, if anyone is suspicious enough to look that hard. First contact for a status update in twenty-four hours at the Kuhio Beach Park."

"Contact at sunset at Kuhio Beach," Steve argued.

Davidson stared at him, and for a moment, Danny thought it was going to come to blows. "Okay," Davidson said finally. "But you are all much too recognizable; you can't get anywhere near that contact point. And all intel goes directly to Homeland; otherwise, a jury could claim tampering with local bias."

The rest of the day was one step forward, two steps back, as Davidson pushed back on every proposal from the team, until a plan was reluctantly agreed upon by all parties, and he went to the elevator and angrily pressed the button to return to the first floor.

"That was exhausting," Kono complained. "I'd rather be chasing down perps on foot."

"Homeland just likes to throw their weight around," Grover said, rubbing his face tiredly. "They don't understand police work. But, he has a point, if human trafficking is involved here, then it crosses international waters, and you need an organization as far-reaching as Homeland to prosecute the case."

"Kono and I will work out a contact point at Kuhio Beach; just trust me, Jax, that you'll know it when you see it," Chin offered. "Why don't the rest of you call it quits? I'm sure Jax has a lot to do. Go on, get out of here."

()()()()()()()()

"Look," Davidson hissed into the cheap prepaid cellphone, "I'm doing the best I can. Five-O and SWAT are even more protective of her than I imagined. Isolating her from them is going to be incredibly difficult. They're like . . . a pack of German shepherds."

He was silent a moment, running his hand anxiously through his hair.

"No, she's going to try to get in to Okada's bar . . . well, I couldn't very well argue with the logic that a local impound is going to be one of yours, probably. But, she does seem a little skittish about driving. Maybe she really has lost her edge; so if you can get her behind a wheel, you could still pull off making it look like an accident," Davidson insisted. "You'll still get what you want. Have your guys help her get into the bar; just don't make it too obvious. Once she gives me what I need to take Okada and The Company down, she's yours to do with as you please. But you don't make a move until I say so, or so help me I'll take you down along with them. That's the agreement, Rivera."

Davidson tossed the phone into the canal.

()()()()()()()()

"I need to make a stop at a drug store on the way home," Jax said quietly, looking out the window of Steve's truck.

"Okay," he said, reaching over and rubbing her knee gently.

They drove for a while and he pulled into a small drug store, off the main highway. "This good?" Steve asked. "We're in a mom and pop residential section; I don't think you're likely to run into anyone who will recognize you later."

Jax nodded in satisfaction. "Perfect. Don't -" she said, as he moved to turn off the ignition. "I'll be just one minute."

He watched as she climbed out of the truck and entered the store, pulling out his phone and clicking on Danny's name.

_Danno, favor?_

_Yeah?_

_Your toasted friend. Extra set of eyes?_

_Read my mind. On it._

_Thanks, Danno._

Jax came out of the store and climbed back into the truck, casually tossing a bag at her feet. Steve could easily make out the shape of a box.

"Scissors and haircolor," she explained.

"You do that yourself?" Steve asked, amused.

"Hell, yeah, you think Jade would go to a salon? Not likely," Jax responded, grinning.

Steve put his arm on the back of the seat, and Jax slid over, fastening the center seat belt as he gently eased the truck back onto the street. His fingers traced idly over her shoulder as they drove, and she hummed in contentment.

"One more stop," he suggested, pulling into his favorite spot for take-out moco loco. "Be right back," he said, stepping out of the truck easily.

Jax pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

_Danno?_

_Yeah, babe?_

_I have to do this. Those kids._

_I know, Jax._

_You know how UC works. Don't let Steve go crazy._

_Okay, babe._

_I want a weekend with Gracie when this is done. K?_

_K._

()()()()()()()()

"Now you're thinking too loud," Steve said, brushing Jax's hair out of her face. They were sitting by the water, and the setting sun was once again turning her hair into a fiery force of nature. She leaned her head into his hand, and he cradled her face, sliding out of his chair to kneel beside hers. He slid his other hand into her hair, entangling his fingers into the curls, and kissed her. She sighed softly.

 _You said you would miss that sound if she left,_ his brain reminded him. _She's leaving._

"How much time do you need to get ready?" Steve asked, his voice rough with emotion and desire.

"Barely an hour," she said, fisting her hands in his shirt and pulling him closer to her. "In the morning," she added.

He grabbed her hand and strode purposefully to the house. The entire undercover operation was momentarily in jeopardy when they reached the stairs, and Jax did something especially wicked with her tongue, one step higher than Steve and able to reach his collarbone with ease.

"Damn it, Jax," Steve half laughed, half growled, as he almost lost his footing and took them both down the stairs. "I do not want to explain your broken leg to Homeland Security . . . "

()()()()()()()()

It was still dark the next morning when Jax slipped from bed and padded to the guest bathroom. Steve sighed and looked at his phone. 4:30 am. Early, even by SEAL standards. He grabbed a quick shower, dressed, and headed to the kitchen. As he started the coffee, he could hear muted sounds coming from down the hall.

A battered duffel bag sat by the front door, next to a pair of black boots he didn't recognize.

Jax emerged from the bathroom, stopping short when she caught sight of Steve.

"Whoa, that's . . . whoa," he said.

 _Very articulate,_ his brain snarked at him.

"It's different," Jax said, biting her lip uncertainly.

"I'm not entirely sure I'd recognize you on the street," Steve admitted, reaching his hand toward her hair, the silky, ink-black strands sliding through his fingers. Jax had cut her hair to chin length, the edges jagged and irregular. The color had smoothed the curls into a soft wave. It should have looked comical, but somehow it didn't . . . it looked sexy and edgy, contrasting sharply with her pale skin, and enhancing her eyes.

"You don't hate it," she commented.

"I don't hate it," Steve concurred, "but I'll be counting the days until you're back sitting on my beach, wearing my Annapolis t-shirt with your hair on fire. So," he paused and kissed her fiercely, "be careful, Jax. No crazy stunts, okay? Play it safe."

She turned from him reluctantly, pressing her badge into his hand. "Hang onto this for me," she said. Grabbing the boots, she shoved them on her feet and picked up the duffel. She took two steps toward the door, then turned back suddenly, stumbling into his arms. He held her tightly as she leaned her head against his chest, and kissed her once more on top of her head. He missed the way her hair was supposed to smell.

She turned abruptly, and walked out the door. He stood in the open doorway watching until she'd turned the corner of the street. Closing the door, he turned and went to the kitchen, and without thinking poured two cups of coffee. He was still standing there, looking at them, when he heard the kitchen door open and close quietly.

 _Thank God, she's changed her mind,_ he thought, as he turned.

"Don't look so disappointed to see me, babe," Danny said, smiling knowingly at Steve.

Steve sighed and held out one of the coffee cups to Danny. "You're here early, partner," he said.

"Ah. Got a text from Jax last night, told me not to let you go crazy," Danny said, sipping the coffee appreciatively.

"I poured two cups of coffee, Danny, after she'd left," Steve said, shaking his head. "You may be too late."

Danny clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, big guy, we may as well go on in to the office. Maybe we'll catch a case today, keep your mind off things. You might get to blow something up, who knows? The day is full of possibility."

()()()()()()()()

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first "Jersey" story is almost complete . . . there is a sequel, "Bits and Pieces of Jersey" already well under way. Please let me know if you'd like for me to post that as well.


	33. Jade 5

Jax sat at the corner booth in the diner, hands wrapped around the chipped mug. She had the classifieds section of the paper spread out on the table in front of her. Davidson's research had indicated that this was a popular breakfast stop for the local street racing scene, so she'd been thankful for the timing of her supposed arrival on the cargo ship at the early hour of six am - the perfect excuse to be in the diner.

A purr of engines caught her attention, and she looked out the window to see two tricked out imports pull in front of the diner. The drivers got out and sauntered through the front door, one of them whistling rudely at the waitress. They slid into a booth and she brought them coffees, not meeting their eyes as she took their orders.

Jax kept her head down, her face turned toward the newspaper, but watched the two through the fringe of her hair. Both guys were young, she guessed younger than twenty-one . . . the age she passed for last time she was Jade. She sighed, realizing that if what Davidson said was true, and people still gave any passing thoughts to Jade . . . she was now significantly older than most of the drivers. It was a strange feeling.

The waitress came by to refill her coffee.

Jax smiled up at her. "Thanks," she said, "I'm looking for work; are you hiring here, by any chance?"

"No, sorry," the waitress said, glancing at the entries Jax had circled in the newspaper. "I can tell you that place is terrible, the owner of that bar expects favors in the back alley, and this one is crawling with roaches." She shuddered.

"Wow, thanks, but that doesn't leave a lot of options," Jax said. She risked a glance at the table; the two drivers were shamelessly eavesdropping on her conversation. Jerks, but exactly what she had hoped for.

"I know, sorry," the waitress commiserated, leaving the check.

Jax finished her coffee and left cash on the table, picking up her newspaper and walking outside. She stood on the sidewalk outside the diner, and lit a cigarette. Danny would have had a fit, but Jade smoked. She'd learned that there were times that it came in handy; especially when her mark had a lighter and she didn't. It also gave an excuse for lingering outside buildings when it would have been unnecessary otherwise.

Once again, Jade's bad habit paid off, and she was still mid-smoke when the drivers exited the diner. One of them nodded at her, and she nodded back.

"Nice ride," she commented.

He stopped and looked her up and down, openly leering. "Yeah, it is, you want a ride, baby?"

"Nah, thanks, I'd be more interested in driving it," she replied.

"You couldn't handle it, chica," he said. "Too much horsepower for a pretty little thing like you."

Jax shrugged. "'97 Supra . . . what are you running, the 2JZ-GTE? That puts it about 680 hp?"

The driver's mouth fell open in an entirely unattractive manner. "With the HKS cams, about 700. How do you know cars?"

"I've driven a bit," Jax said. She took another hit off her cigarette. "Could stand to make a few extra bucks. Know anyone who needs some wrench work?"

"Maybe," the driver said. "Kapaa Quarry Road, midnight. There might be some action there, you might make a connection." He leered at her again. "Be glad to keep you company until then."

Jax stubbed out her cigarette with the toe of her boot. "I'll manage," she said cooly. "Thanks for the tip, though. I'll check it out." She turned and walked away, willing herself not to cringe and the feel of their eyes following her.

She decided to head for the hostel . . . the day was already feeling much too long. With any luck, she could kill a few hours with sleep.

()()()()()()()()

"What's on your mind, Steve?" Danny asked, as they drove through the still-quiet streets to the palace. "I can see the wheels turning."

"I'm going to double check every bit of Davidson's intel," Steve said, rubbing his hand through his hair. "Something is nagging at me . . . I can't put my finger on it."

"WIth you on that," Danny nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"Do what you do, Danny . . . be a detective," Steve said, pulling into the parking lot.

They went into the office, turning on lights and powering up the computers and equipment. Danny started to turn on the center console, but Steve shook his head and kept going into his office, where he pulled out a laptop from a drawer in his desk.

"Oh, okay then," Danny said, rubbing his hands together. He recognized Steve's Navy-issue laptop. "Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, let me know how I can help."

Steve grinned and started typing furiously on the laptop. "Coffee would be nice," he said, smirking, but not looking up at Danny.

"Oh, sure," Danny groused, but he smiled and went to start the coffee.

When Chin and Kono arrived an hour later, they found Steve and Danny still in Steve's office, hunched together over his laptop.

"Wow, early bird gets the . . . what's up, Boss?" Kono asked, likewise recognizing the Navy-issue laptop. "Please tell me you're not getting deployed right now," she said, eyes widening in alarm.

"No, Kono," Steve answered. "I'm just double checking all of the intel on this case."

Kono nodded. "Davidson doesn't scream 'trustworthy', I'll give you that. I thought it was just me."

"No, I think he sets all of our teeth on edge," Chin said, leaning in the doorway. "I thought maybe it was the stupid suit. Find anything yet?"

"Not yet," Danny answered. "So far, everything checks out. Those four most recent missing kids? Definitely missing, definitely within days of that last cargo ship going out. That much, at least, points straight to Okada, just like Davidson said."

"When does the next cargo ship leave? The one that Jade supposedly arrived on this morning?" Kono asked.

"Day after tomorrow; we have less than forty eight hours," Steve answered grimly. "Kono, please pull every missing persons report, see if we have any kids missing. Davidson was right about that, at least, which means we could have kids in trouble right now. I need you to stay on it, coordinate with HPD, local school systems, anything you can think of."

"On it, boss," Kono said, heading to her office.

"Chin," Steve said, "do you have any contacts who have insight into The Company? You said it was old school."

"Yeah," Chin said, nodding. "When I was a rookie with your dad, The Company was already phasing out. The few remaining members treated it more as a social club, really. The Yakuza had taken over and forced The Company into obsoletion. But I know a few retired cops who would remember when The Company was active. What am I looking for?"

"Anything that doesn't line up with the picture Davidson has painted for us," Steve said. "The whole idea of The Company cooperating with MS-13, or getting actively involved in drug and human trafficking."

"You got it," Chin said.

Steve stood up and paced behind his desk. "I'm missing something, Danny," he said.

"Want to get Davidson in here, pin him to the wall?" Danny suggested.

"Tempting, but we don't have anything but a gut dislike for the guy," Steve said, "and we might very well have kids at risk as we speak. No, we need to get more information. But if something's not right, if Davidson is tweaking the intel for some reason . . . "

"Jax could be walking into an ambush," Danny finished soberly. "What do we do?"

"Is Toast going to be at the beach park tonight?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, he's up for it," Danny said. "What do you have in mind?"

"See if he can somehow connect with Jax, just tell her to watch her back on Davidson's intel," Steve suggested.

Danny grinned. "I have an idea." He paused, and gave Steve a searching look. "You know you can't be anywhere near there, right? You are far too recognizable, my friend."

"I know, Danny," Steve sighed. Hours into this operation and it was already an ulcer-inducing, nerve-wracking situation.

()()()()()()()()

Jax had claimed a corner bunk at the hostel, and in the quiet of mid-day, managed to catch a couple hours of light sleep. She still had a few hours before sunset, when she could make her way to the beach park, and hopefully recognize whatever contact point Chin had set up for her to check in with Davidson. She decided to go through the motions of checking out some of the classified ads, in case her brief conversation with the racers that morning meant that someone was already following her movements.

She ran her hands carelessly through her hair as she glanced in the mirror of the communal bathroom, then headed out. It needed to look like she was looking for work, and striking out.

She checked out three potential jobs, and made sure that she wasn't offered any of them. The waitress had been right; the owner of one of the establishments was a complete creep, and Jax made mental note to pay him a visit when she was carrying her badge again.

She noted with relief that it was approaching sunset, and started making her way toward the hostel and Kuhio Beach Park. She was itching to accomplish something, anything, and it was hours yet before midnight. Ducking into the hostel bathroom, she quickly changed into swimwear and grabbed a towel, then walked the short block to the park.

She smothered a smile when she spotted a beach rental kiosk with a small sign marking it "Jersey Shore Rentals". Davidson was in the kiosk; she begrudgingly had to admit that he blended seamlessly, which was not what she'd expected. The suit was long gone, replaced by faded board shorts and a tank top which revealed a surprising amount of muscle.

"What can I do for you, miss?" Davidson said.

"Nothing this evening," she said, "I'm fine for now. Might need an umbrella tomorrow morning, if the sun's bright."

"You planning to be hungover or just ready to relax?" Davidson asked.

"Depends on how the evening goes," Jax said. "I've been invited to a party."

"Well, you have fun, miss," he said, nodding. "Look forward to seeing you next shift, then."

Jax nodded and then ambled toward the water, keeping up the illusion that she was there to enjoy the beach. She missed Steve's beach, though, and this was comforting in a way; the feel of the sand and the sound of the water familiar and soothing. She spread out her towel and grabbed a book from her bag and tried to relax. Too many hours still until midnight.

A shadow fell over her book and she frowned, then froze as a pair of flip-flops came into her line of vision. Flip-flops with an adorable little baby seal embroidered on them. A baby seal . . .

"Yo, cuz, you got a light?" A voice filtered down to her. She did, in fact, have a light, and produced it.

"Righteous," the voice said, and a person plopped unceremoniously down beside her, extending a deeply tanned hand to retrieve the lighter. "Sometimes, you know, a stranger is more trustworthy than the person you're supposed to trust, you know what I'm saying? Like, appearances can be deceiving. But my gut told me you were okay. My horoscope this morning warned me about trouble in my homeland."

Baby seal . . . trust a stranger . . . trouble in homeland. It was a clear message.

Jax smiled indulgently at the ramblings. "Okay, my friend, not sure what you're smoking, but I will be sure to watch out for trouble in the homeland. Sometimes things seem very hard, but sometimes they seem too easy."

Toast patted Jax's hand. "Good, good, good. You're on the path to enlightenment." He stumbled away.

()()()()()()()()

"So, yeah, man, even with the scars, she's smokin' - ow," Toast protested as Danny smacked him soundly on the back of the head.

"You do not even want to think those thoughts, I promise you," Danny said, sticking his finger in Toast's face. "You let her know to look out for Homeland, for Davidson - did she give you any indication of anything?"

"Yeah, man," Toast said, rubbing the back of his head. "She said sometimes things seem too easy. I heard her tell the dude at the kiosk that she had been invited to a party tonight."

Steve uncrossed his arms and smacked Toast on the back of the head again for good measure as he fell in next to Danny. They dropped a bag of candy on Toast's sofa as they walked out of his trailer.

"Uncharacteristically restrained," Danny commented. "Just a little smack?"

Steve tilted his head toward Danny as they got in the car. "He got information to and from her for us," he said. "Plus, come on Danny, he's only human."

()()()()()()()()

Grover was walking into the palace when Steve and Danny returned.

"Lou, good to see you," Steve said.

"I had to come by, see what you all had been up to today," Grover said. "Because I don't believe for one minute that you're sitting back letting Davidson run this. Not if he gives you the same heebee-jeebees his gives me." Grover gave a dramatic shudder.

Steve chuckled darkly as he hit the button for the second floor.

"What have you got, guys?" Steve asked as he strode off the elevator.

"I have a missing person that fits the profile," Kono said, putting a file on the plasma. "Julia Meyers, age sixteen. Single mom, Lisa Meyers, works two jobs, says it's not unusual for them to go a couple of days without seeing each other, between school and work, but she realized that Julia hadn't slept in her bed, and her phone was left charging in her room. She called the school; Julia had been absent for two days. She's officially been missing for 24 hours, but her mom thinks possibly two, two and a half days." Kono paused, then added, "Mom says they've been fighting about her grades . . . it's possible Julia left of her own free will. And there's no connection that we can find to Okada. We have no chance of getting a warrant."

"But, if Okada is our guy, and that cargo ship is the transport . . . " Steve said.

"Then kids are being taken and held somewhere on the island until the ship leaves," Danny finished.

"And according to my sources, Lee Okada could be ruthless enough to be guilty of that," Chin added. "The second generation of The Company is rumored to be setting out to rival the Yakuza."

"What about MS-13, how do they play into this?" Grover asked. "After all, that's the story Davidson used to convince Jax to resurrect her cover."

"Yes, and MS-13 seems, interestingly enough, to be the least of our worries," Chin said. "The only commonality is the racing and the racers that frequent The Last Oasis. On that much, Davidson is correct. But as to cooperation between the gangs? Seems highly unlikely. More like, Okada is keeping his enemies close."

"What possible motive would Davidson have to make more of the MS-13 connection than is really there?" Danny asked worriedly.

Steve shook his head. "Damn if I know, but I don't like it. She knows to question his intel, though, and has already noted that something - maybe a connection, maybe this invitation - seems too easy. So, as much as I hate it, I say we let it ride. Danny?"

"Yeah, I agree," Danny sighed. "I'll be glad when this is done."

"Okay, let's wrap it up. We'll demand an update from Davidson in the morning, once Jax has made contact," Steve said, and reluctantly closed his laptop.

()()()()()()()()

Jax couldn't deny the adrenaline humming through her veins as she pulled on her boots. She automatically grabbed for her phone, badge, and gun . . . and then remembered that she didn't have any of those things. She hated this part of undercover work; being completely and utterly cut off from reality.

She timed her arrival at Kapaa Quarry Road for just before one am. Too early, and she would seem too eager and obvious. Too late, and she might miss the arrival of the key players. The road was humming with activity; cars parked, hoods up displaying their engines, the groupies and girlfriends flitting around like butterflies.

Jax skipped all of the flash and walked toward the shadows. That's where she would find the drivers who were here to race, not play show-and-tell.

"You found your way here," a voice said, closer to her than she'd realized, and she willed herself not to flinch. It was one of the drivers from the diner: no surprise, and far too easy for her liking.

She shrugged. "Seems to be the only racing action on the island tonight," she said. "And I use the term 'action' loosely; looks to me to be mostly a bunch of kids showing off their shop projects."

"The action begins in a few minutes," the other, usually more quiet driver offered. "We don't so much race each other; we wait for The Company crew to get here." He pushed up his sleeves, revealing distinctive MS-13 ink.

Jax put her hands up. "Whoa, I'm just looking for a way to earn some cash behind the wheel or under the hood. I don't plan to get caught up in any turf wars."

"Come on, Travis, you're scaring away our new friend. There's no gang war; more like . . . friendly rivalry. For now," he added. "I'm Carlos, by the way." He also shoved his sleeves up to reveal the gang tattoos that placed him as a minimal level member. "You recognize our ink, chica? Interested in an initiation?"

Jax barely resisted rolling her eyes. They were children, playing clubhouse with fast cars. Then she sobered, thinking of what they were driving and who was really pulling their strings . . . these two were old enough to have avoided being taken against their will and shipped of to God knows where, but they'd be used just the same.

 _Do the job, get the intel_ , she reminded herself. _You can't fix everyone's problems along the way._

God, she remembered why she hated undercover work so much. No wonder by the time Salinas was finished with her . . .

Her dark train of thought was derailed by Travis and Carlos, her unlikely companions, jumping up eagerly at the sound of approaching engines.

"Okay, here comes the competition. Now we're talking," Carlos said.

Jax watched in feigned nonchalance as several Japanese imports rolled up to the end of the road; past the parked cars and hyper bystanders. The drivers parked and got out; all Asian, two looked to be in their late teens, but one looked older, closer to her own age.

"Ah, our worthy competition," Carlos said. If the way Travis rolled his eye was any indication, Jax assumed he was grandstanding for her benefit.

The older of the Asian drivers had his eyes locked on Jax.

"To what do we owe the honor of your presence?" he said, his voice betraying no emotion.

Jax shrugged. "I'm just a gearhead, looking for work."

"Or looking to make a name for yourself?" he asked.

"I don't drive; I'm no competition to you or anyone here," she said evenly.

"We'll see," he said. He pointed to one of his companions, and to Carlos, and just like that, a race was set up. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly in charge of the racing for the evening.

The next several hours went by in a blur of car exhaust and the sound of tires.

Travis, for whatever reason, was never pointed out to drive, and he stood quietly next to Jax, a self-appointed guardian of sorts.

"You're jonesing for it," he commented, and Jax followed his gaze to her hands. They were trembling.

She gave a shaky laugh. "It's been a long time. I guess it's still in my blood. But driving . . . not for me any more."

"It's really you, isn't it," he commented, not questioning. "Jade. You ran with Salinas Rivera back in the day."

She carefully schooled her features. "I picked up a few tips from S- - from Rivera. I've always run independent. No offense, the group thing just wasn't my scene."

"You can say gang, you know," Travis said casually. "I know you recognize the ink; know we're MS-13."

"Hey, live and let live, man," Jax said. "I'm just here for the cars; always have been."

Travis nodded. "You're sure you don't want to try another line of work?"

"I've tried. It's all I know, really," she said.

"What's all you know, baby?" Carlos said, joining them after a satisfying win. He was relaxed, smiling broadly, his teeth brilliantly white.

"More than you ever will," Jax shot back, but with a smile that diffused the insult. "Nice run," she added.

The older of the Asian drivers approached, to shake Carlos's hand. "Solid win," he said. "You deserve to be rewarded in person." He handed Carlos a roll of bills.

"Thank you, Ito," Carlos said.

Ito turned his impassive gaze to Jax. "So, Jade, what would you suggest for my car, so that next time I win?"

"You need to adjust the fuel intake. You've got a split second hesitation on the timing, it's costing you a couple milliseconds every time you press on the gas," she answered casually.

"Without looking under the hood, you say this with confidence?" Ito asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's in the sound of the engine, if you know what to listen for," she said, shrugging.

"Wait, wait, wait . . . Jade?" Carlos said, incredulously. "No way, man, that's just myth. Hey, how about we buy you and your men a drink, Ito? And perhaps Jade could join us."

Ito studied Jade for a moment, then nodded. "Should be good for a few stories at least . . . and maybe I'll look into my fuel intake."

Travis subtly took Jax by the elbow and steered her toward his car. She slipped in and fastened the seat belt.

"Let me drive you somewhere else," he said quietly, as they merged with the dozens of cars leaving the area, and then turned in the opposite direction along with Carlos, Ito, and his other crew.

"Why?" Jax asked.

Travis shook his head. "Nothing has changed since you were last driving, that's why. You want to stay clear of the gangs, you need to find a legit garage to work in, or something. Private security, limo company."

Jax turned in her seat, studied him closely. "There something you want to tell me, Travis?" She wanted to ask him if he wanted out, ask him why he was trying to warn her, but she couldn't, not without blowing her cover.

He shrugged, then, and she knew she'd get no closer for now. "Nah, I just got sisters, you know. My parents raised me to be careful. But hey, you say you can handle yourself, I believe you."

()()()()()()()()

"It's definitely her."

"I know that, I told you that a dozen times," Davidson said smugly. "I told you I could deliver, Rivera."

"My man Carlos is getting her in to the bar as we speak. Apparently she impressed one of Okada's men tonight at the race; knew what was slowing him down. He identified her as Jade . . . Ito will be jealous that MS-13 made first contact, he'll want her for The Company. He'll play right into our hands."

"Of course he will," Davidson said confidently. "We've been planning this for years; I assure you, I've thought of every contingency. We'll get what we need to take down The Company, and then the entire scene will be under the control of MS-13."

"Don't forget; once you have what you need, she's mine," Rivera reminded him.

"I won't forget. But you'll never be able to show your face on the island, or in New York, you realize that? I told you, I did underestimate Five-O and SWAT's investment in her. Even if they only have proof it was an accident, they'll never believe it. They'll hunt you to the ends of the earth. You'll have to disappear," Davidson warned.

"Once I avenge my brother Salina's death, I'll disappear. Even you won't be able to find me," Rivera replied. "The name Dillon Rivera will be a legend, just like Jade."

()()()()()()()()

The Last Oasis was practically deserted when the five cars pulled up outside. Jax slid easily out of the passenger seat of Travis' car and made her way inside with Travis and Carlos. It was Ito, however, who held the door of the bar open for her.

"Welcome," he said, still studying her impassively. "This is my family's business, please let me make sure your time here is pleasant."

They approached the bar, and Carlos called out to the bartender. "First round is on me," he said.

The drivers all ordered shots, but Jax declined, and asked for a beer instead. She knew that she could successfully nurse a beer for a long, long time; and while those around her drinking shots would soon find their inhibitions and their reflexes affected, she would be firmly in control of herself and hopefully her surroundings.

Travis gave a subtle nod of approval, or relief. Jax noted that he and Ito stopped after one shot, while the others cheerfully continued with several more rounds.

Predictably, it was Carlos who stepped over the line first, with a firm hand gripping her ass as he leered at her. "Hey, pretty Jade, wanna see what's under my hood?"

A shift of weight and flick of a wrist later, Jax had Carlos facedown on the bar, his arm twisted sharply behind him, as he called for the Holy Mary to rescue him from this demon woman. Travis and Ito had jumped up quickly and stood by, ready to assist if needed.

"No, Carlos," Jax said evenly, "I don't care to see what's under your hood. For one thing, it's probably a statutory violation of some kind; seriously, do you even shave yet? For another, I prefer my . . . engines . . . with a little more vintage, and a lot more class." She slowly lifted him up off the bar and shoved him in the general direction of Travis. "I think your friend is up past his bedtime."

Travis grabbed Carlos by the scruff of the neck and started shoving him toward the door. "Sorry, Ito," he called back. He halted at the door, and turned back to Jax. "Jade, I'll come back and give you a ride home."

Ito interrupted smoothly. "No worries; I'll see that she's safely escorted home."

Travis hesitated, looking at Jax. She nodded, and he reluctantly continued shoving the blithering Carlos out.

"You handled that well," Ito said.

Jax shrugged. "I grew up with racers; I know how to handle myself. He was harmless, just had a little too much to drink. And I've tended bar enough, I can tell the difference between dangerous and drunk."

Ito appraised her. "You mentioned you were looking for work . . . I believe my family business could use someone with your various talents. Are you interested?"

"And the family business is . . . "

"This bar, among others . . . some racing on the side," Ito said smoothly.

"So . . . 'The Company' . . . that an LLC name or what?" Jax said, trying to infuse her voice with just the right balance of suspicion and interest.

Ito laughed. "You live up to the legend, Jade. I assure you, my family will offer you more protection and advantage than those children could ever offer. In Hawaii, The Company is more of a . . . nickname, a tradition. It's kept alive as a show of respect to the older generation, nothing more. You know what MS-13 is capable of, that's why you kept your distance even when you raced with Salinas Rivera back in New York."

"You've done your homework," Jax said.

"Amazing what you can pull up on racing forums," Ito said mildly. "So, what do you say? I know you need the work. My offer is legitimate . . . it beats other forms of income."

Jax hesitated. This was exactly the opening they'd hoped for; of course, it was blatantly too easy. A rookie would see through it. But who make it easy? Had Carlos had insulted Ito in his own house, in order to play on the centuries old Japanese sense of honor? Or was Ito suspicious of her already, and looking to find her out? Either way, it felt like she was walking into an ambush, but at this point, she had no way out but through.

"Sure," she shrugged. "I'm not in a position to turn down work."

"Excellent," Ito said, turning back to his companions at the bar. "To Jade, the newest member of our family."

Jax had to suppress the shiver that went down her spine, and force a smile.

()()()()()()()()

"It went just like you said," Carlos said, speaking quietly into the phone. "I was a jackass, and Ito was a gentleman. She's in."

"Excellent," Dillon Rivera said. "You'll do well in this organization, Carlos. Now, let's double cross the double crossers."

()()()()()()()()

"What the hell, Davidson," Jax hissed angrily at the agent the next morning. He was in the "Jersey Shore" kiosk again, looking tan and bored. Jax had to admit, he was far better at blending into the background than she had ever imagined. "I'm in with Ito Okada just like that," she snapped her fingers and Henderson frowned at her.

"Lower your voice, Jade," he said.

"Damn it, it's way too easy. Either my cover is blown, or there's something you're not telling me. Do you have someone else on the inside? DEA? ATF?" she demanded.

"Look, Jade, it's simple: you're a legend. MS-13 knows it, The Company knows it . . . it's a power play. They're too busy trying to lay claim to this racing ghost to worry about your cover. You're a little piece of turf war to them," Davidson insisted.

"I don't like it," she said quietly. "I want to talk to Steve or Danny."

"What, so yet another one of your cases can fall short, because of your personal involvement with either the mark or the law enforcement officers? You don't think a defense attorney would have a field day with that? By the time they finish with you, you're having threesomes with the SEAL and the schmuck, maybe a little action with the cousins on the side," Davidson said. "Whole case would be thrown out, conflict of interest."

"You're an asshole, Davidson," Jax said flatly.

"Maybe, but I'm trying to take down a bigger asshole, here, Jade," Davidson said. He sighed. "Look, I didn't want to tell you this, because it adds pressure, but we've got a missing girl that fits the profile. The cargo ship is set to depart tomorrow around mid-day. We have just a little over twenty-four hours to get enough evidence to come down hard on Okada. Get us something, just enough for a warrant, and we can get you out, okay?"

"My name is Jax, you prick," she snapped.

"As far as I'm concerned, Jax doesn't exist. Without Jade, you're nothing. Nobody," Davidson said coldly. "Now go do your damn job."

()()()()()()()()

"McGarrett", Steve said, grabbing his phone when he saw Davidson's name on the screen. Danny had been watching him pace circles around the console table. Even Kono hadn't dare go too close; he'd had to apologize to each of them at least once that morning for snapping. They didn't blame him. Over twelve hours with no word from Jax meant that none of them had slept peacefully.

"It's too fast," Steve said. "I don't care that you have a 'logical explanation' . . . no, I haven't done undercover police work but I was in Naval Intelligence, damn it, and I know it doesn't work that way. What are you holding back?"

A beat of silence.

"You know what, Davidson, I can and will go over your head. No, I want contact with her. Today."

A longer beat of silence.

"Of all the asinine, ignorant . . . don't threaten my team, Davidson. You will live to regret the day you set foot on this island. Yes, that is absolutely a threat, and you can quote me on it."

"Well? Danny asked, coming out of his office.

"Davidson says that Jax made her morning check-in. She's already in to The Last Oasis; made contact with Ito Okada last night," Steve said, looking at Danny to gauge his reaction.

"Whoa, that's not right," Danny said immediately. "That's way too fast.

"Yeah, and when I demanded that we have contact with her, he pulled the 'conflict of interest, DA will throw out the case' bullshit," Steve said, pacing again.

"Boss, you're going to stroke out," Kono warned. "What do we do? I could go to The Last Oasis. I might be able to blend in."

"No, you're too recognizable," Steve said. "Damn it, Davidson has us over a barrel. I could care less about blowing his case, but we get made, we blow Jax's cover. Plus we have this girl missing."

"Okay," Danny suggested. "So, turn over every stone looking for the girl - if Okada doesn't have her, we don't have to worry about risking her safety in this mess. If Okada does have her, then we'll at least be heading in the same direction as Jax."

Steve nodded. "It the only solid lead we have, and either way, this girl could be in trouble. Okay, you guys, put everything we've got into finding Julia Meyers."

"On it, Steve," Chin said. "What are you going to do?"

"Hell if I know," Steve answered, grabbing his badge and gun. "Something. Call me if you need me, or if you get anything."

()()()()()()()()

"She knows she's being played, she just doesn't know by which side," Davidson said into the phone. "The important thing at this point is to keep her completely cut off from Five-O and SWAT. The minute she's not with Okada, get her occupied. Ask her to drive, to fix a car, whatever. You'll have control soon."

"Oh, indeed we will." Davidson heard Dillon's voice directly in his ear. The ear that _wasn't_ pressed to the phone.

He felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, and then blackness.

Dillon sighed. It was almost too easy, really. "Carlos, put him in the trunk."

()()()()()()()()

"Steve, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Jerry asked. "Ice tea? Lemonade?" He gestured Steve inside the house.

"No, thanks, Jerry," Steve said. "I do need a favor, though."

"What can I do for Five-O today?" Jerry said, warming up his fingers in anticipation.

"Let's say this is a very personal favor, Jerry," Steve began. "How do you feel about hacking into Homeland Security?"

Jerry's eyes widened.

()()()()()()()()

Dillon Rivera walked into The Last Oasis and took off his sunglasses. He left on the flat-rimmed cap, though, the one that he'd pulled out of the bag carefully stowed under the corner bed in the hostel.

Lee Okada was sitting at a corner booth, sipping a coffee and making careful marks in a ledger. He closed it immediately and stood.

"Good morning, Mr. Rivera," he said, extending his hand. "It's early to see you."

"Well, Mr. Okada, I decided it was time to see for myself, this bar that my men have come to appreciate so much. And to apologize, if I'm not mistaken, for the drunken behavior of one of my boys last night. I believe he insulted a young woman who is now in your employ," Rivera said smoothly.

"No harm done," Okada said. "From what I hear from my brother, Ito, the young woman had no problem handling the situation."

"Ah, yes, from what I heard from my brother, Salinas, this young woman is quite the . . . feisty one," Rivera replied. "I had, in fact, very much hoped to make her part of my family here on the island. Talent like hers is much in demand, I suppose, and I should have moved faster. We learned from our recent interaction with the Yakuza that cooperation and negotiation is preferable to strong-arm, though, and I thought that I might offer . . . a proposition to you."

"Regarding Jade?" Okada guessed. "I'm not sure what you have in mind; if rumors are to be believed, her last encounter with your family ended with a . . . misunderstanding."

"Yes, and I'd like to clear that up with her myself," Rivera said. "So I propose a trade: Jade, for the Homeland Security agent who sent her in here to collect evidence against The Company."

Okada was silent for a long moment.

"I need proof," he said, finally.

Rivera pulled out a recorder and placed it on the bar.

The recording started with Davidson's voice:

" _I know that, I told you that a dozen times. I told you I could deliver, Rivera."_

" _My man Carlos is getting her in to the bar as we speak. Apparently she impressed one of Okada's men tonight at the race; knew what was slowing him down. He identified her as Jade . . . Ito will be jealous that MS-13 made first contact, he'll want her for The Company. He'll play right into our hands."_

" _Of course he will. We've been planning this for years; I assure you, I've thought of every contingency. We'll get what we need to take down The Company, and then the entire scene will be under the control of MS-13."_

"Do you have access to this agent, then?" Okada asked.

"I have the agent in my possession. In the parking lot," Rivera replied. "I came to do serious business, Okada. I'd like this to be the beginning of a meaningful cooperation between MS-13 and The Company."

Okada picked up his phone. "Ito. Bring the girl around front."

Rivera nodded and picked up his phone. "Carlos. Bring the agent in."

()()()()()()()()

Steve was speeding back to the palace when his phone rang. He pressed the button on the steering column to put Kono on the hands-free.

"Kono, what have you got?" He asked.

"Boss, we found the girl," Kono said urgently. "Had nothing to do with The Company. Her mom said they'd been fighting over her grades; she just got ticked off, crashed at a friend's house for a couple days. We tracked her down using her Starbucks card, of all things. Her mom is furious, of course, but happy she's okay. She's going to pick up Julia now. Do you think it was a deliberate misdirection from Davidson?"

"That's not the half of it, Kono," Steve said. He hesitated. Jerry had bent the definition of immunity and means about as far as it could bend already, he didn't want to say more over an open line "I'll tell you more when I get back to the palace. See you in five."

Steve parked the Silverado in three minutes and his long strides covered the distance to the elevator in seconds.

"What do you have Steve, that you didn't want to say over the phone?" Chin asked, as soon as he got off the elevator.

"Davidson has a reprimand in his file at Homeland . . . harassment of an informant; pushed a confidential informant over the edge; cost the case, blew the informant's cover, she had to be put it witness protection. And, a flagged evaluation from his yearly psych eval," Steve said.

"Let me guess," Danny said, "obsessive compulsive behavior?"

"Yeah, specifically obsessive attention to a specific case. Jade's," Steve said grimly.

"Shit, Steve, this guy really did go off the deep end," Danny said, incredulous. "Well, what do we do? Call Grover, go in after Jax with SWAT for backup? What?"

Steve looked at Chin, who shook his head. They were thinking the same thing.

"She'd be dead before we closed in," Chin said. "One or both gangs would see to it. No, we're going to have to come up with some sort of plan, starting with figuring out how to find out exactly where she is. So for starters, now we can get Davidson in here, nail him to the wall."

"Guys, before we do anything, someone has to call Grover," Kono reminded them. "He's her captain, after all. I know we think of her as part of our team, but she's SWAT, remember?"

()()()()()()()()

"Ito," Lee Okada said, in a deceptively calm tone, "How carefully did you vet our new employee, here?"

Ito squirmed uncomfortably. He'd entered the room, prompting Jade along in front of him, and he'd felt her freeze instantly upon the sight of Dillon Rivera. Something was up, and he had a bad feeling about it.

"I thought that her reputation with cars . . . and she handled Carlos so well . . . brother, I just thought that The Company deserved to have her as part of our family," Ito said.

"And it didn't occur to you that she could have been cooperating with our MS-13 friends . . . or with a fed?" Lee Okada said, shaking his head. "Ah, well, Ito, I must confess, it didn't occur to me either. We'll discuss this later. Leave her here and get back to work." He dismissed Ito with a wave of his hand.

"Come here, little Jade," Okada said, gesturing.

Jax walked toward him, not glancing again at Rivera. Okada reached out and stroked her cheek, and she stood quiet and unflinching. "Tell me, Jade, did you know that your agent was going to hand you over to Rivera when you had his evidence? You look like a clever, clever girl."

"I knew I was being played," Jax said. "I just didn't know by whom."

"And yet, you didn't run away?" Okada marveled. "PIty. I would have taken such good care of you, Jade. What other agencies are you working for hmm?"

"Just Homeland Insecurity, unfortunately for me," Jax said.

"I wonder," Okada replied. "But that's not going to be my problem, now is it. One thing the agent said was true - you're going to be Rivera's to deal with." He turned to address Carlos. "Leave him there. My men will take care of him. Mr. Rivera, an unfortunate, but necessary, piece of business today. I thank you for offering this creative solution to a mutual problem."

"My pleasure," Rivera said. "May I?" He gestured toward Jax.

"Of course," Okada said. "She's all yours." Carlos stepped forward, but Rivera stopped him with an upraised hand. "Not necessary, Carlos. I'll take it from here. I'm sure Travis will come give you a ride."

Dillon Rivera stepped next to Jax and grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to look at him. "Jade, Jade, Jade," he said. "I haven't seen you since my brother's funeral. Whatever shall I do with you, hmm?" He gripped her arm tightly and steered her out the front door and into the passenger seat of the car, pulling back his jacket to make sure she saw the gun on his side.

He slid into the driver's seat, took off the flat-rimmed cap that had been his brother's, and placed it backwards on Jax's head, tucking her hair behind her ear in the process. "There, that's better. That's the Jade I remember. My brother taught you everything he knew, you know that? He spent more time with you than he did with me. I was fourteen. I idolized you both. And you took him away from me."

Jax held onto a shred of hope that Dillon would believe she was Jade - just Jade, a confused, washed up racer who was being manipulated by a double crossing federal agent.

"Dillon, I remember you," she said. "I didn't take Salinas away from you. We had . . . a disagreement, a fight. He let his crew teach me a lesson, for disrespecting him. I was hurt, and angry, and I ran. When that guy from Homeland approached me, I thought it was my opportunity to repay Salinas, repay your family, for all he taught me. He was going to get The Company out of the way, so the race scene would have been yours to run."

Rivera backhanded her viciously. "You little lying . . . you know what I think? I think you're the reason my brother went to jail. After your 'misunderstanding', the cops came down on him. With evidence. They put him away, and he died in prison. It was your fault, Jade."

Jax wiped at the blood trickling down her chin. "No, Dillon . . . I swear to you. I idolized your brother, too. He was the only family I had. Driving with him . . . Dillon, those were some of the happiest days of my life." Jax realized that the words came to her easily because they were true; more true than she'd ever dared admit to herself. But it might be her one chance to get out of this.

"Liar!" Dillon yelled, backhanding her again, so hard that she saw stars. She could feel a bruise forming on her cheek now, joining the one on her jaw.

 _Back to square one, with the bruises,_ her brain offered, perhaps as a distraction. _Danny will try to make a new set of rules . . . Danny's a good guy . . . he needs to start seeing someone . . ._

" . . . at me!" Dillon was yelling. She'd missed it. _Better pay attention, it's much too early in the day for a concussion. Again._

"Worthless, thankless, piece of . . . " another backhand, this one catching her off guard, so that her head snapped back, hard, against the headrest. Dillon's voice became fuzzy and distant . . .

()()()()()()()()

"I'll call Grover," Danny said, walking quickly into his office.

"And I'm getting Davidson's ass in here to explain himself," Steve growled, picking up his phone and jabbing at it angrily.

A minute later, Danny came back out of his office. "Okay, Grover is on his way here, and he's bringing Duke for good measure. They are righteously pissed at one of theirs being played by Homeland."

Steve was staring at his phone in disbelief. "He's not answering. Davidson isn't answering."

"Okay, don't jump to conclusions," Danny said. "He could be at lunch."

"Or taking a leak," Kono offered, as Chin looked at her sideways.

"Or his cover could be compromised," Steve said, "which means Jax could be compromised. Damn it." He ran his hands through his hair, and gripped the edge of the console table so hard that Chin winced.

"Keep trying, Kono, please," Steve said, his voice strained. "I can't keep . . . if he's not . . . just keep trying."

"On it," Kono said, putting her hand lightly on Steve's arm, and walking swiftly into her office

"Danny," Steve said. "Danny, where do we start?"

"Okay, if - if, Steve - if her cover has been compromised, we start at the hostel, work our way carefully out to The Last Oasis, then on to MS-13. But we have to tread lightly, my friend. If we blow her cover before we get to her, we make things worse, got it?" Danny said, gripping Steve by the shoulders.

"Yeah, got it, Danno," Steve said. "Okay, let's get a uniform to go to the hostel, with a story about a series of local break-ins."

"That works," Danny said. "I'll call. What is taking Grover and Duke so long?"

Just then, the elevator ding announced their arrival. Steve knew the minute they stepped off the elevator that his day had just gotten exponentially worse. He just hadn't known that was possible.

"Boys," Grover said solemnly, "We have a problem."

Duke inserted a flash drive into the computer console, and a picture appeared on the screen.

"Agent Davidson was found, about fifteen minutes ago, shot twice in the back of the head," Duke said, his voice quiet with disbelief.

"Execution style," Danny said, exchanging glances with Grover. They'd seen entirely too much of this in their days working gang violence cases.

"Gear up," Steve said, his voice deadly calm. "We're hitting The Last Oasis."

Danny, Chin, and Grover exchanged glances. "I honestly don't have a better idea at this point," Danny said. The other two nodded in agreement, and six of them moved with deadly intent toward the armory.

()()()()()()()()

"Oh, man, it was beautiful," Carlos bragged, when Travis came to The Last Oasis to pick him up. "Dillon was like, 'Here's the agent, give me the girl', and Okada was like, 'Pretty little Jade'. Man, it was off the chain. Like you see in the movies."

"Shut up," Travis said. "This isn't a movie, you moron. What do you think Dillon is going to do with her?"

"He told me he was going to take her out to that abandoned subdivision in Lanakai; he wanted to race her. Said he'd always wanted to race the legend," Carlos said.

"You know what went down with Salinas Rivera and Jade, right?" Travis said. "Don't you listen to anything anyone says?"

"What are you talking about, man?" Carlos said. "I don't care what those has-beens were doing back in the day."

Travis thought hard for a moment, and then jerked the car over to the side of the road.

"What the hell, man?" Carlos complained.

"I'm going out there to try to stop him," Travis said. "Jade said she couldn't race anymore. I think he's going to hurt her."

"Of course he's going to hurt her, man, gotta teach her a lesson," Carlos said.

"Shoot me or get out of the car, I don't care," said Travis. "I've had enough of this shit, I'm going to do something."

"Your funeral, man, I want no part of it," Carlos said, jumping out of the car.

Travis pressed the gas and pointed his car toward Lanakai.


	34. Jade 6

Dillon Rivera parked the car in the shade stood impassively next to it. He'd given her a couple of rough shoves and been rewarded with a groan, but he'd hit her a bit harder than he'd intended, apparently. Pity; to hear her brother's crew tell the story, she'd been nearly indestructible.

He poked at her shoulder again and this time she came back swinging. That was more like it.

"Hello, Jade, welcome back," Dillon said.

"Dillon, come on, let's work this out," Jax said, fighting back nausea. "Why do you think Okada was so mad? I was going to work against him. I wanted to be back with MS-13."

"You were never part of MS-13," Dillon spat.

"I was family to you and Salinas; come on, Dillon, I helped you pass ninth grade English," Jax said, "Doesn't that count for anything?"

"No," Dillon said decisively. He grabbed her by the arm in a bruising grip, his fingers purpling her fair skin almost immediately. "Get out," he said, as he shoved her in front of him. She stumbled, then regained her footing, and gritting her teeth in determination, walked with her head held high and her shoulders straight. She tried to take in as many details as she could about her surroundings; she was well and truly screwed and she knew it. Abandoned subdivision; she'd been half-conscious on the drive out, so she had no sense of how long it had taken - not that her lousy sense of direction would have helped much in that respect anyway.

They turned a corner and she spotted it: Carlos's 97 Supra. She knew exactly what was under the hood, had a good guess as to some of the other features. The engine had sounded damn close to perfect last night.

Even half-concussed and held hostage, her fingers itched to wrap around the steering wheel, and she could feel her hands tremble.

"Oh, you still have it bad, don't you?" Dillon purred in her ear.

"Actually, I'm just way overdue for a smoke," Jax said. It wasn't entirely untrue. One smoke, and she was back to craving nicotine. Danny was going to be so mad. Again. He'd made her quit cold turkey after bringing her home from the hospital last time . . .

She startled when Dillon poked at her again, handing her a cigarette and flicking the lighter for her. She lit the cigarette, and then had a half-formed thought . . . should she try to burn Dillon, run and jump in the car? Or ? Her thought was interrupted by the sight of him jangling the keys in her line of vision. Well, then, never mind. But the nicotine was helping; sharpening her focus, tamping down some of the nausea.

"What, Dillon, keys, yes, I'm proud," she said, aiming for the same exasperated tone she'd used with him seven years ago. Keys. If she could just get the keys . . . she swatted at them, as if to bat them out of her face, and tried to make a grab. She felt her hand close around the key, and Dillon closed his fist over hers and squeezed hard.

"Nice try, Jade," he said, continuing to squeeze her hand until she felt the sharp edge of the key break the skin. As blood started to trickle out of her fist, she felt her thumb give way with a sickening pop, and she couldn't hold back a sharp cry of pain.

Dillon laughed cruelly as she released her grip on the keys. "The crew talked about you for weeks and weeks after, you know. About how you could take a beating. You earned some mad respect, Jade. No one knew where you disappeared to. Salinas wouldn't admit it, but he searched for you. Until the cops came down on him."

"Salinas and I were tight, Dillon," Jax said, still trying to play on his sympathy . . . she had a sense that she needed to somehow buy some time, though she wasn't thinking too closely about what she was buying time from. "You know Salinas didn't want me dead. He had to teach me a lesson, I get that. I disrespected him. I always thought he gave the order for them to cut me loose, though." It was a blatant lie; she'd seen the coldness in Salinas' eyes when he left the garage that night. But if Dillon would buy it . . .

"Salinas was weak," Dillon snarled. "And I'm not. He should have known you were selling him out. You sold him out to the cops, and they came and took him; took everything from me. So tell me, Jade, who else are you working with, hmm? Who's gonna come looking for you?"

"Just the fed," Jax said, squeezing her hand into her shirt to try to stop the bleeding. She grabbed at the base of her thumb, tried to slide it back into place, and a wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her.

"I don't believe you," Dillon said. "Not that it matters. You know how this ends. I just want to know, do I make it fast, or do we have time to play?"

"Dillon, come on man, what do you think you're doing?" The voice came from behind them.

 _Travis,_ Jax thought. _Oh, shit, shit, shit, no Travis, get out of here._

Dillon whirled, his hand still in a bruising grip on Jax's arm, pulling her with him as he turned and causing her to lose her footing. He jerked her up sharply.

"Travis, this doesn't concern you." Dillon snarled. "I didn't call for you."

"No, come on, man, think about this. She could be useful to you," Travis said, his hands held up in front of him.

It happened so fast; Jax saw Travis fall in the instant that the gunshot resonated in her ear. She looked in stunned disbelief at his body, unmoving on the ground, a pool of blood slowly forming under him as he lay next to the open door of his car.

"You bastard," she spat at Dillon, but she couldn't hear the sound come out of her own mouth. She shook her head to try to rid herself of the ringing in her ears.

"He shouldn't have interfered," Dillon said. "Guess you've still got it, Jade, making an impression on the crew. He was soft, like my brother. That's a weakness I'm going to have to purge from my crew - a soft spot for pretty girls." He shoved her, hard, in front of him, and held the gun casually to her back. "Walk," he ordered, shoving her toward the Supra.

()()()()()()()()

Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett was an undeniably attractive person under any circumstances, but - not for the first time, if she were honest, which she was woman enough to be - Kono couldn't help but notice that in full tactical gear, he was holy-shit-yes-please. Or maybe that was just her . . . and Jax, obviously. They'd discussed their mutual appreciation for Steve in tactical situations one night over a pitcher - okay, three, whatever - of margaritas.

" _So, today was . . hmm . . . " Kono hummed._

" _What?" Jax asked, amused._

" _The guys in tac gear . . . don't tell me it doesn't add a certain . . . dimension to the day," Kono said, arching an eyebrow at Jax._

" _Did I ever tell you about getting doped up, spilling my guts, before Steve and I . . . you know . . . " Jax asked._

" _No. Details now," Kono said, topping off Jax's glass._

" _I was on the good stuff, couldn't shut up. Mumbled something about 'thigh holsters'," Jax said, too buzzed to be embarrassed at this point._

" _Hmmm, yeah . . . " Kono muttered appreciatively._

" _Get your own," Jax said mildly._

" _What?" Kono asked, looking dubiously at her glass. She had her own glass. Was pretty sure she wasn't drinking Jax's. Thigh holster? Didn't like them. They pulled her pants down._

" _Navy SEAL," Jax said, grinning at Kono. "Get your own. I highly recommend. Every girl should have one, really."_

When Steve stepped out of the armory, Kono shamelessly appraised him.

"What?" he asked, checking to see if something was obviously wrong with his equipment.

"Nothing," she sighed. "I'll get one of my own."

Steve looked at Chin, who shrugged. "Sometimes it's just better not to know, brah."

The ride to The Last Oasis was short and fast; lights and sirens were deemed appropriate, given the circumstances. Danny clung to the oh-shit handle as Steve took a corner on two wheels.

"You in a hurry to walk into an ambush, big guy? Road, Steven, road," Danny groused.

"If Jax isn't there, Okada may know where she is," Steve said. "Either way, we're on borrowed time."

Steve slung the Camaro into the parking lot, Chin and Grover's SUVs right behind him. Danny may have been mistaken, but he could have sworn the double doors to the bar swung open of their own accord at Steve's approach. Would figure - the anger coming off of him in waves was tangible.

Lee Okada stood up at the sound of screeching tires, and several of his men came from various dark, back rooms of the establishment.

"Gentlemen," he said, holding up a hand to stop his men from drawing down on the officers. "How can we help you today?"

In two steps, Steve was at his throat, lifting him slightly off the ground and pressing him back against the nearest wall. Danny resisted rolling his eyes, and Okada's men drew their sidearms, which of course meant that the team had to likewise draw. Steve was never one for subtlety.

"Jade," Steve said simply. "Where is she?"

"Not here," Okada said, his voice breathless from the pressure on his windpipe. "I have no idea where. She was briefly in my employ, but we had a parting of ways, and she left here earlier today."

"Tear the place apart," Steve said, pressing his gun against Okada's temple.

 _The paperwork on this is going to be complicated,_ Danny thought.

Okada's men firmed their grips on their weapons and kept them trained on the team, but Okada raised his hand. "Be my guest," he said. "Gentlemen, please allow these fine officers to see for themselves that Jade isn't here."

The men reluctantly lowered their weapons, and Chin, Danny, Kono, Grover, and Duke rushed into the back rooms. Steve heard their voices call out 'clear', one after the other, until they came back, shaking their heads in disappointment.

Steve growled and body checked Okada even higher against the wall.

"Tell me, who has her, and where," he demanded.

"So sorry to disappoint you, Commander," Okada said, "but I truly have no idea. Now, I've been kind enough to allow you to search my place of business, with only a request, not a warrant, I might add. I'm not sure that you want to waste any more time here."

Steve turned so quickly that Okada thudded to the ground. Danny watched as Steve blew through the doors and exited the bar.

"Okay, Steve, come on, buddy," Danny said, approaching Steve, who was pacing in short steps next to the Camaro, "hold it together, yeah? We're gonna find her."

Steve turned to him. "I knew it, Danny. I knew there was something about Davidson . . . God, why didn't I follow my instincts?"

"Look, we all knew something was off about him, even Jax," Danny said. "This is helping no one."

"You're right," Steve said, taking a deep breath. Danny recognized the game face - the mission-intense, take-no-prisoners mask that settled over Steve's features.

Chin and Kono came out, followed by Grover and Duke, who were careful to cover their sixes as they exited.

"What next?" Chin asked.

"She hasn't tried to contact us, so we assume she can't. We assume Okada turned her over to MS-13," Steve said grimly, looking to Grover and Danny for confirmation.

Grover went to his SUV and pulled out his radio. "Yeah, give me locations on every known MS-13 in Honolulu," he said. "Not the foot guys, the ones with clout. Send it to my phone." He glanced at Duke, raised his eyebrows in question. "Put other available units on the usual suspects, locations, anything MS-13 related." Duke nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, guys. It's all we've got right now," Steve replied. "We'll take the island apart, piece by piece."

()()()()()()()()

Travis groaned and squinted against the bright light that insisted on piercing through his eyelids, exponentially aggravating his splitting headache. He tried to sit up, and groaned again as a sharp pain ripped through his shoulder. He stilled as he heard Dillon's voice, and the more muted sound of Jade's voice in reply. Turning his head slowly, he realized that they were within sight, but Dillon's back was to him, and his open car door provided a decent measure of cover.

He carefully reached with his good hand into his pocket, hoping against hope that his phone was undamaged and had signal. The battery was low, but to his relief, there was a dial tone and then blessedly, the voice of an operator in response to his shaking fingers dialing 911.

"Yes," he said, as quietly as he dared, "Please, send help. There's a man, Dillon Rivera . . . he has a lady out here, he's hurting her. Yes ma'am, Lanakai, the abandoned housing development. Me? Oh, yes, ma'am, I need help, too. I've been shot, I think."

His battery dead, and shock setting in, Travis closed his eyes to rest, just for a bit.

()()()()()()()()

Jax evaluated her situation as they approached the car. Mildly concussed; though she'd had much, much worse. Cut on the palm of her hand - inconsequential. Dislocated thumb - she could probably fix that, given a few deep breaths and a minute without Dillon's scrutiny. Bruises on her upper arm and forearm - dismissed. All in all, still in fighting shape. She demanded her brain to focus on a way out. Unfortunately, during her systems check, she missed something important.

"Answer me, damn it," Dillon was saying, when she tuned back in.

 _Shit, what was the question?_ Her brain scrambled ineffectively for a clue.

Dillon grabbed her chin in a crushing grip, turning her eyes up to meet his.

"I said," he hissed, "I know you're working with both Five-O and SWAT. Davidson told me. So, stop lying, and tell me, how long before they get here?"

"Okay, okay," she said, feigning defeat and giving herself a split second to think. Tell him their arrival was imminent, and he'd likely shoot her on the spot. Tell him they had no idea where she was, and who knew what she was setting herself up for. She stuck with her instinct to try to buy time. "I'm not allowed contact with Five-O or SWAT. Just Davidson. I made my morning meet with him . . . that's all I know. I didn't have any other instructions today, but to go to The Last Oasis and try to get information."

"So," Dillon said smugly. "They don't even know you're missing, yet, do they? Good. I want to see if you can still drive."

"So how's that going to work?" Jax asked. "You win, you can shoot me. I win, I can stick my boot up your -"

 _Okay, goading him may have been a bad idea,_ Jax thought, as a sickening punch knocked the air out of her. She felt a rib grind.

"So, you're afraid you can't beat me in a fair race, that it, Dillon?" Jax was done trying to play on his sympathy. Clearly, that wasn't going to work. Getting him mad enough to slip up and give her an opportunity to get away was the next best plan. That would involve copious amounts of smart-assery: thankfully, she was from Jersey and trained by the best.

"You think winning a race is the plan here, Jade?" Dillon asked, tsking in mock disappointment. "What, you think it really matters which of us wins a race? I just want to experience going up against you. You think you're going to get out of that car again once I put you in it?"

Dillon grabbed her by the throat, and bent to whisper in her ear. "You're going to get in that car, and you're going to drive, because you might as well, right? But you know you won't be able to get away, not after I'm done with you. And I'm going to run. you. into. the. ground."

He'd holstered his gun. In order to punch her, and grab her, he'd holstered his gun. As her vision started to gray at the edges, she grabbed the hand around her throat for leverage and raised her knee as quickly and sharply as she could, right into Dillon's groin.

He released her immediately and clutched himself, falling to the ground in agony. She made a quick grab for his gun, but he struck out at her with a vicious kick, catching her behind her knee. Her injured hand broke her fall, and for a split second she pondered that maybe face planting would have been the better option.

She could hear Dillon getting to his feet; heard him rack the slide on his gun.

Jax closed her eyes and tried to remember one of those Catholic prayers that Danny had tried to teach her. She felt the barrel of the gun pressed against the back of her neck, as a rough hand hauled her up off the ground.

"Drive."

()()()()()()()()

"Steven, in order to do anything remotely effective, we need to arrive in one piece," Danny said, as they hurtled down the H1 to the first location. Chin and Grover's SUVs were still visible, in the distance, in the rear view mirror. Steve had made a quick stop by the palace to swap out the Camaro for his truck, which made Danny worried. Steve loved driving the Camaro; so much so, that Danny rarely got to drive it himself. No, Steve taking time to get the truck meant that Steve wanted the gear inside the truck. That usually ended in an inordinate amount of paperwork, created by Steve, but completed by Danny.

"You know, her feet don't touch the floor," Steve said, out of the blue. "When she sits there," he nodded at Danny's position in the passenger seat, "her feet don't touch the floor. She usually curls her feet up under her."

"Yeah, I've noticed that," Danny said cautiously. This was a strange conversation to be having at . . . wow, okay then, ninety-five miles an hour.

"I'm an asshole, Danny," Steve said, looking at Danny earnestly. Instead of at the road. "I should have . . . I don't know. Moved the seat, or lowered it, or something."

"Really don't think she minds, babe," Danny said. He paused. "Is this about the truck?"

"I haven't told her, really," Steve continued, as if Danny hadn't said anything. "I've told her how amazing she is, how she constantly sells herself too short, what a good cop she is . . . I've told her how beautiful she is, because she has no clue - no idea, Danny. Who _did_ that to her?"

Danny had some ideas, but he figured this was more of a rhetorical situation.

"But I haven't told her, really, how I feel about her. How I would feel if . . . " Steve stopped. "I should have told her, Danny. I should have told her when she left the other morning. I started to, but then I was afraid it might jinx the op. You never do that, you know, right before . . . you just don't."

"So, when we find her, you tell her, okay babe?" Danny said. "You tell her when we find her."

Danny's phone rang. "Grover," he said, putting the phone on speaker immediately. "What have you got?"

"We've got a break, boys," Grover said, his voice filled with relief. "Lanakai. The abandoned subdivision. HPD dispatch got a call from what sounded like a young man, shot, probably in shock himself. Says there's a man there with a young woman."

"What makes you think it's Jax?" Steve said.

There was a beat of silence. "The kid ID'd the man as Dillon Rivera. HPD ran the name."

"Son of a bitch," Danny said. "Salinas Rivera's . . . "

"Brother," Grover replied. "Younger brother. Davidson conveniently left every record pertaining to Dillon Rivera out of the case file."

"We're only two exits away," Steve said.

"Approach these guys with caution," Grover warned. "Assume there's a crew, and assume they're armed."

Danny decided that looking at the speedometer was just pointless, really, and held on.


	35. Jade 7

Jax eased herself into the driver's seat of the Supra; clenching her teeth and refusing to let the hiss of pain at the movement escape. For one brilliant moment she thought that Dillon would hand her the keys, and in the time it took him to step over to his car and get in, she'd have a decent shot of getting away. She watched in frustration as he walked around to the passenger side - only steps away from his own car - and dropped the keys into the floorboard. By the time she retrieved the keys, he'd be behind the wheel.

"What if I just refuse to drive?" Jax asked wearily.

"I roll down my window and shoot you," Dillon answered. "You may as well drive - give yourself the illusion that you can get away."

He jogged the few steps to his car, and had started the engine before Jax even managed to retrieve the keys. Her ribs were aching, her thumb wasn't cooperating, her knee hurt, and the glare of the sun wasn't helping her headache. Still, she'd had much worse.

Dillon was revving his engine.

"Lunatic," Jax mumbled as she started her car. There was no room to turn around, so trying to head in the opposite direction wasn't an option - yet. She'd have to just watch for any available opportunity.

The next ten minutes went by in a blur of speed, smoke, and pain. Every time Jax thought that she might have the slightest edge, or opportunity to turn away from Dillon in a different direction, he would nudge his car just ahead of her and clip her with the bumper. She'd cracked her head solidly on the door frame, and while the seat belt had probably saved her head from crashing into the steering wheel, it had also left vicious bruises.

Jax took a sharp left and caught a glimpse of movement in her rearview mirror. She let out a sob of relief as she recognized a flash of blue, and two dark SUVs, all with flashing lights. Dillon saw it at the same time, and for a few seconds, it was as if someone had pressed pause on the whole universe. She saw him glance in the rear view mirror, level her with a cold gaze, and then look dead ahead . . . where Travis still lay on the ground.

She realized in a split second what Dillon's intention was - as one, final, desperate act, he would exact one more act of revenge. There was no hint of hesitation as Jax floored the Supra and nudged ahead of Dillon, pulling ahead of him on the right. As they came dangerously close to Travis, she turned her car as violently as she could directly in front of Dillon's. There was deafening noise, and sideways movement, and then silence, and stillness.

She had a moment to try to look out the passenger window to see if the impact had pushed her too close to Travis, then she glanced to the left to see Dillon slumped forward over his steering wheel, and then the bright glare of the sun turned into a blinding light, and then blessedly, darkness.

()()()()()()()()

"Steve!" Danny yelled, "he's going for the kid, and she's going to try to intercept."

"I know, Danny, what do you want me to - shit," Steve said, as Jax successfully blocked Dillon by turning her car directly in front of his; the sound of impact, followed by a grinding of gears and brakes, and then - silence.

Steve and Danny leapt out of the Silverado, weapons drawn. Danny stopped at the driver's door of Rivera's car, his gun trained on him, while Steve ran toward the frighteningly damaged Supra.

Chin and Kono were the first to reach Danny. "Go, Danny, we've got him," Chin said, and Danny holstered his weapon and moved toward Steve. Grover had opened the toolbox on the back of Steve's truck and retrieved the bright red medic bag and was racing toward them, Duke on his heels.

"Check the kid," Steve called to Grover and Duke, as he wrenched the driver's door of the Supra open. Jax was motionless, blood steadily dripping from a gash just above her ear, and Steve's hands were shaking as he felt for a pulse. His eyes met Danny's.

"Rapid pulse, shallow breathing," Steve reported.

"Okay, I'll take it for now," Danny said. "Grover, what have you got with the kid?"

"Looks like he's lost a fair bit of blood, but he's hanging in there," Grover called back. "I've got what I need from the pack," he added, pulling out a generous handful of gauze pads and a pressure bandage. "Come get it for Nolan; EMS is about fifteen out still."

Danny trotted around the back of the car and took the bag from Duke's outstretched hand. He moved quickly back to Steve, placing the bag on the ground and opening it up widely.

"Okay, Super SEAL, tell me what you need," he said. He glanced back at Chin and Kono, who were cuffing a disoriented Dillon and shoving him out of the car, face down onto the ground.

Steve was carefully checking Jax's neck, collarbone, and ribs. Images of the first day he met her flitted through his mind . . . she'd been sound asleep on the way home from the airport and Danny had asked him to check for broken bones. She'd grabbed his hand in a bruising grip when he'd pressed on her ribs and . . . _ow_ \- Steve looked down at his hand, where Jax had locked onto it.

"Hey, ku'uipo," he said quietly, looking up to see that she had cracked one eye open. He reached up his other hand and brushed the hair away from her face.

"Hey," she rasped out. "Oh, sorry," she added, letting go of his hand.

"Where are you hurt? Anything broken?" he asked, as Danny came and peered over his shoulder.

She held up her other hand, blood smearing from the cut on her palm, and her thumb visibly displaced. "This is killing me," she said. "Fix it?"

"Seriously?" Danny asked. "You look like you've been hit by a car - literally, because you have - and your first item on the agenda is your thumb?"

"You wanna fix it, Danny?" Jax asked irritably. "If not, shut up."

Steve gripped her hand firmly in his. "So," he said, "you'll be glad to know that -"

Jax bit off a sharp cry of pain as Steve expertly reset her thumb mid-sentence.

"Nice technique," she said, through gritted teeth. "What were you saying?"

"Learned it from this kick-ass HPD SWAT medic," he said, holding her hand gently and pressing gauze into the palm, then wrapping it with an elastic bandage. "And I was telling you that Travis is holding on, and EMS is probably - what, Danny, about ten minutes out?" Steve took the thick gauze pads that Danny offered him, and pressed them against the cut.

"If that," Danny said. "You did good, Jax; you saved that kid's life. Which makes you even, actually, since he saved yours."

Jax glanced up at Danny in confusion.

"He called 911 after Dillon shot him," Steve explained.

"He's a good kid," Jax said. "I think he wants out . . . he tried to warn me, tried to keep me away from The Company. We need to help . . . maybe the the motor pool . . . I need to -" Jax broke off and gasped in pain.

"Okay, hold still," Steve soothed. "What is it; what's hurting?"

Jax let out a pained chuckle. "Everything?"

"You think this is funny?" Danny asked, exasperated.

"Danny," Jax said. "I'm just happy." She gave Steve a lopsided grin, and he smiled and stroked a part of her cheek that wasn't bruised.

"Excuse me?" Danny sputtered.

"Think about it, Danny; the last time I tangled with a Rivera brother, it . . . well, it ended badly, with me alone. Look around, Danny. There's six people here who care about me. And I think Kono is about to kick Dillon in the head; you might wanna check on that . . . "

As Danny jogged off to scold Kono and remind her of police procedure, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Jax's hand.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, shaking his head as he took in the obvious injuries. Her hands were a mess; dark bruises were already visible at the edge of her shirt sleeve and her wrist looked suspiciously swollen. He pressed several thicknesses of gauze over the cut above her ear and secured it with medical tape.

"Yes; take me home, please? I just need a shower and some Motrin," Jax begged.

"Grover has your team on the way with a bus; I think you should let them take you in and get checked out," Steve said, as he carefully unclicked the seat belt and slid it back into place. "Impressive," he said, noting the bruising that the seatbelt had left over her collarbone. His long fingers pressed gently, then drifted up to brush over the bruising on her neck and jaw. Finger marks, again. His eyes darkened, and he looked at Jax questioningly.

"Dillon," she said, then paused. "Maybe Okada? Both, I think . . . it's a little fuzzy. We'll need to get statements, I'll need to -"

"Jax, ku'uipo, hold still, just - wait, Jax, don't try to - " Steve broke off, exasperated. "You are stubborn, you know that?" He gave up and helped her out of the car.

"Travis; I want to check . . . " Jax moved stiffly, bracing her arm against her ribs, as she walked around the back of her car toward Grover and Duke, still bent over Travis on the ground.

Jax gingerly knelt beside him, checking his pulse. "Pulse is thready, and he's clammy . . . he's shocky," she said. She reached for the bag, wincing as every movement aggravated her bruised and battered muscles.

"I got it," Steve said, realizing what she was trying to do He pulled the bag over and carefully raised Travis' legs to rest on it. Jax leaned on the hood of Travis' car and gratefully accepted the water bottle that Steve handed to her. He leaned next to her and gently put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her over to rest against him.

Grover looked up at the sound of approaching sirens. "Hey, our guys are here," he said, smiling at Jax.

"I don't ride in the back of my own bus," Jax said stubbornly.

In the end, she got her way, as it was determined that Travis' gunshot wound and Dillon's loss of consciousness, gave them priority in the two available units. As they sped back to the hospital with their charges, Grover turned to Jax.

"You, young lady, are to go get checked out. That's an order," he added, holding his hand up to silence her protests.

"Grover, I need to place a call to the Governor," Steve said, "could you and Danny get Jax to the ER?"

Grover raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Absolutely, Commander," he said, the turned and gestured to Danny. "Williams, with me."

Steve kissed the top of Jax's head and reluctantly let go of her as Danny wrapped an arm around her waist to help her to Grover's SUV.

"I'll be right behind you," Steve said. "Let me wrap things up with the Governor, so I'll be free to take you home after the ER."

Steve watched as Grover and Danny gently maneuvered Jax into the back of Grover's SUV, her head tucked securely against Danny's shoulder.

"Chin, I'd appreciate it if you and Kono would coordinate with Duke; make sure there's always a uniform on Dillon. As soon as he's released from the hospital he'll be going into custody. Get the paperwork started; murder, attempted murder, assaulting a police officer . . . what am I missing?" Steve asked.

"Attempted vehicular manslaughter," Kono suggested, shaking her head at the wreckage. "I don't know how Jax walked away from that."

Steve stood looking at the mess; two mangled cars, a pool of blood on the ground, broken glass everywhere. He picked up Travis' cell phone, which had been half-covered in discarded sterile packaging from Grover and Duke's initial first aid.

 _What if . . ._ his brain whispered quietly.

"Hey, Boss?" Kono interrupted his train of thought. "Need an evidence bag?" She held out an open bag, and he dropped the phone in, automatically, and handed it back to her. He was still looking at it when she signed the bag with a flourish.

"Boss," she said quietly, putting her hand on his arm. "The fact is, Travis did call, and you did get here in time. Okay?"

 _You were a genius to hire her,_ his brain informed him, smugly.

()()()()()()()()

"Yes, Governor," Steve said, as he drove toward the hospital. "We do believe that we're going to see increased gang activity and an increase in gang-related crime and violence. I believe we need to be pro-active. Well, my specialty, really, is intelligence and anti-terrorism. I propose we offer Captain Grover a position in Five-O; he and Danny have experience with gang violence, and I believe the situation warrants another officer specifically to target this problem."

Another pause. "Captain Grover and Danny are taking her to the ER as we speak. As far as I know, just a lot of bumps and bruises. Well ma'am, because I wanted to wrap up my report to you first. Thank you, ma'am, I appreciate that. That's . . . well, I can mention it to Officer Nolan, see what she thinks of the idea. Yes, ma'am, Kono has also mentioned that Five-O could use a medic. Absolutely, just let me know of your decision after you've had time to review it. Thank you, ma'am."

()()()()()()()()

Grover and Danny had a decent head start on Steve, and Grover had decided that with Jax's increasing pallor, and Danny's concerned glances at him in the rearview mirror, lights and sirens were the order of the day.

Malia had received a heads up from Chin, and she was waiting for them at the ER entrance with a wheelchair. She shook her head as Danny helped an obviously hurting Jax out of the back of the car; thumping the door after he closed it, so that Grover could continue driving to appropriate parking.

"I don't need the chair," Jax groused, as she and Danny came through the double doors. "I've had much, much worse."

"Do I need to give the hospital policy lecture again?" Malia said, pointing at the seat of the chair.

Jax rolled her eyes, and instantly regretted it, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' to nausea," Malia said, pushing the chair toward a room marked Exam 1. "Danny, we'll be in here, if you want to wait for Steve or have any calls you need to make. Please make sure your team cleans up if you need to . . . don't be spreading germs and scaring my patients. I'll let you know when you can come in to be with Jax."

"Yes, ma'am," Danny said, bending to kiss Jax gently on the cheek. "You okay, babe?"

"I'll be fine, Danny, do what you need to do. Don't let Steve go all -" she broke off and made an expressive gesture with her hands.

()()()()()()()()

Steve arrived and met up with Danny in the hallway.

"Grover is heading back in to HPD to 'brief' Agent Davidson's superior on the situation," Steve explained. "He'll be by to brief Jax tomorrow, get her statement."

"Good," Danny said, "she was looking pretty rough. No, there's no need for panic face - look, here's Malia."

Malia stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. "Okay, well, when Jax admitted that her pain was at an eight and a half on a one to ten scale, I went ahead and gave her a pretty strong narcotic. She was on the verge of shock, which was going to make everything exponentially worse. One slight problem, though; we need to do some tests - strictly routine - and I'll need signed consent, which she is now too medicated to give. Danny, you're still listed as her medical proxy, so if you don't mind?" Malia stepped back into the room.

Danny looked at Steve a bit apologetically, but Steve waved him off.

"Danny, it's fine. You're my medical proxy, too, you know," he said, smiling.

"How fortunate for me," Danny groused. "Medical proxy for the two voted most likely to get injured under any circumstances . . . " He disappeared inside the door, leaving an anxious Steve to lean against the wall outside.

"Hey, rookie," Danny said, as he joined Malia next to Jax's bed. She was uncharacteristically still; the pain medication had kicked in hard and fast, and she was out cold. He had the most overwhelming sense of deja vu - he'd seen Jax in just this scenario, right down to the incredibly disconcerting inky black hair. His heart sank. Jax had come so far since arriving on the island, battered and almost broken. What if this set her back . . . all the way to the last time she tangled with a Rivera brother?

"Danny, the tests are routine, just to rule out abdominal bleeding, and we're going to get portable x-ray in here to check her ribs and a couple other bones - I don't think we're going to find anything. Really, it's just being cautious," Malia assured Danny, concerned at the solemn expression on his face.

"I understand, Malia," he said, scrawling his signature on the forms Malia presented him. "It's just . . . there was a case very similar to this one, back in 2004, in New York. The brother of the man who inflicted today's damage turned his crew loose on her to teach her a lesson . . . " Danny trailed off.

Malia nodded in understanding. "I'm so sorry, Danny. Well, from what Jax said, all of today's injuries were inflicted by a car, so there's at least something to be thankful for. But, you're right to be concerned. This could bring up a lot of memories; and with the pain medication she's sure to need, possibly a lot of confusion. I know she and Steve seem to have their own method of dealing with things -"

"Like swimming to the mainland?" Danny interjected, smiling. "Or blowing something up?"

"Yes, like that," Malia laughed. "But, if either of them need something more, remind them that we have resources, okay?"

"Yeah, got it, Malia," Danny said, signing the last form. "Thanks."

"Now," Malia said, "I'm going to go ahead with the abdominal ultrasound; we don't think there's internal bleeding but the bruising is severe, and some ribs might be cracked, so we need to rule it out just to be safe. This is the easiest and least invasive way to check; if we see anything we'll do a CT." She pulled up a rolling chair and started the procedure, squirting gel on Jax's lower belly.

She looked back up at Danny. "Oh, and I'm sure poor Steve would rather be in here, than pacing in the hallway letting his imagination run wild. You're the proxy, if you say it's okay, it's okay. Go let him in."

Danny went to the door and looked out. Steve had made it all the way down to the end of the hall and was turning to pace back. Danny caught his attention and waved him into the room, and Steve quicktimed it back, and through the door.

He opened his mouth to ask how Jax was doing, just about the time he saw Malia begin to move the ultrasound wand. His knees came dangerously close to just giving up their job altogether, and his lungs were suddenly and spectacularly uncooperative.

 _Holy shit,_ his brain offered; as usual, chiming in with a completely unhelpful comment. _Holy shit . . . wow . . . please let everything be okay . . ._

"Malia?" He croaked out, looking between her and Danny in confusion.

Realization dawned on Danny. "Steve - okay, no, it's also one way they check for abdominal bleeding, which Malia is just ruling out as a precaution. Okay? Come here - Steve," Danny was snapping his fingers in front of Steve's face now, "Steve - ah, yes, hello - okay, I'm going to pull this chair up next to Jax and you're going to sit down, okay?"

"Okay, Danny," Steve nodded cooperatively. His brain was still stuck on _please let everything be okay_ but it was a little less panicked now. He reached over and took Jax's closest hand in his, and was rewarded with a squeeze and a mumble, and Jax turning her head toward him.

"You okay, partner?" Danny asked; he was studying Steve with a guarded expression.

Steve was sure that he'd looked completely and totally poleaxed when he came in the room, and the resulting expression on Danny's face . . . almost like Steve was failing a test . . . "Danny," he said earnestly, "no matter what you think I was thinking . . . no matter what it looked like, I swear to God, I was just wanting everything to be okay. I would never - Danny, I'd be surprised, because we haven't . . . I mean, I've talked to _you_ about kids, but not to Jax . . . but not upset, God, not even disappointed. I just . . . she took such a beating, I mean, look at the bruises . . . I just - I didn't know, you know, if there _was_ \- I just didn't know how it could be okay, and -"

"Steve," Danny interrupted. "I know, man. _I know_. . . we're good, Steve. You don't have to prove anything to me."

"Hey," Jax mumbled, "why does Steve have aneurysm face?" She had managed to open her eyes and turn her head toward them. Sensing Malia's examination of her abdomen, she glanced down. Her eyes widened comically.

"Holy shit," she said. "This isn't where you tell me I've been in a coma and missed something important, is it?"

"No, sweetie, I'm just ruling out abdominal bleeding. You were injured behind the wheel of a car, do you remember?" Malia said, finishing up and wiping everything off, tugging Jax's scrub top back down.

"Yes, Dillon was going to run over - Travis -" Jax said, struggling to sit up. "How is he?"

Danny used the controls to raise the head of the bed slightly. "Hold still, Jax . . . I'll go see if I can get a report, ok?"

Jax blinked owlishly at Danny. "Okay. Good. Find out about the engine, too, please."

Danny paused. "Um, babe? The engine?"

"On the Supra," Jax explained, as if to a very small child.

"Ohh-kay," Danny said. Jax had closed her eyes again, satisfied with sending Danny on his mission. Steve shrugged; he wasn't entirely sure what Jax was on about, but at this rate, she might not even remember asking.

Malia looked up from checking her pager as Danny went out the door. "Radiology will be a little while yet with the portable x-ray, so I'm going to go ahead and close this cut over your ear, Jax." Cleaning the wound carefully, Malia considered her options. "I'm going to use surgical glue," she said. "Looks like a clean cut - glass?" Jax didn't answer; she had drifted off again

Steve nodded. "That's my guess. The driver side window shattered on impact."

Malia shook her head. "She got off fairly easy then, all things considered. Surgical glue will mean that she can shower. And swim, when she's feeling up to it," she added. She deftly applied the surgical glue and pressed the edges of the wound together. When she was satisfied with the result, she taped a bandage in place. "She can take this off when she showers, after she gets home. Shouldn't be any trouble - of course, she'll know how to handle it should it open again."

"Thanks, Malia," Steve said, brushing the hair away from Jax's face.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of radiology, and the technician efficiently shot x-rays of Jax's ribs and the wrist and forearm that Malia wanted double checked.

"If you could push those through quickly," Malia said to the technician, "we would certainly appreciate it. This officer has had a terribly long day, and these reports will be the last of what we need before we can get her home."

"Absolutely, Dr. Waincroft," the tech said. "I'll send you a text message just as soon as we've read the x-rays."

Jax mumbled indistinctly and forced her eyes open again. "Hey," she said, trying to focus on Steve.

"Hey yourself," he said, smiling at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm ready to go home, shower, and sleep for a week," she admitted. "I suspect I have some good stuff floating around in my system."

"You do indeed," Malia confirmed, "and I want you to keep it floating in your system for at least twenty-four hours. I think x-ray is going to confirm that nothing is broken, so all in all, you're in remarkably good shape for someone who blocked another car with their own. That said, you have bruises that probably go to the bone." Malia glanced up at Steve. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you how incredibly painful that is, regardless of how benign "bruise" sounds."

She didn't need to tell him; Steve had experienced that sort of injury more than once, and he remembered thinking that a simple broken bone would have been a lot less painful. "I'll make sure she stays on her meds for at least a day," he assured Malia.

Danny slipped quietly into the room, smiling when he saw Jax awake. "Travis is in surgery; they are doing some repair, but they expect a full recovery."

"Good," Jax said, sinking back into her pillow in relief. "Wait, what about Dillon? Is he in this hospital?" She struggled to sit up. "Travis might need a uniform on him when he gets out . . . Dillon is going to -"

Steve gently pressed her shoulders back. "Stand down, Jax. They took Dillon to Tripler; security is tighter there. Grover has a unit on him. Duke is going to keep a couple uniforms on Travis, okay?"

Jax studied him a moment. "Is Travis going to be under arrest?" she asked quietly.

Steve shook his head. "I doubt it; he called 911 to get help for you; he tried to warn you, even. I think we can work with him, work something out."

As Jax nodded in relief, Mala's phone buzzed.

"Ah, radiology," she said, scrolling through the information. "Excellent report - no broken bones. You may possibly have a hairline fracture of the left ulna; so we're going to give you a splint that you can wear for support and protection; you can take it off for showers and such. No swimming for about a week, though, just to be safe."

Jax sighed. "It figures. I live in the most beautiful place in the world, steps away from the ocean, and I keep getting banned from swimming. Sucks."

"I'll keep you company, babe," Danny said sympathetically. "I'll sit with you and we'll drink coffee and watch the super SEAL swim."

Jax blinked up at Danny. "I like coffee," she said earnestly. "I like watching Steve swim, too," she added. "Very much." She frowned, and glanced at Malia. "Malia," she said plaintively, "it's happening again. Those stupid drugs broke my filter."

Malia finished securing the splint on Jax's arm, and laughed. "Well, Commander, you can take her home now," she said, smirking at Steve. "And she's due for another dose in . . . four hours," she said, checking the chart. "Have fun with that. I'll go tell the staff to start the paperwork."

()()()()()()()()

Danny, Steve, and of course, Jax, were thoroughly exhausted by the time Steve parked the truck in front of his house. The streets were dark and quiet as they'd driven home; Danny in the back seat with Jax propped as comfortably as possible - which was, really, not very - and Steve trying to avoid potholes.

Steve opened the back door, handed the keys over to Danny, and gently pulled Jax from the truck, cradling her against him. She mumbled sleepily and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. Danny went ahead of them, unlocking and then holding the door open. After they were all inside the house, Danny put the keys on the side table and turned as if to leave.

"I'll, ah, just -" he started.

"Danny," Steve said, "hey, man - grab the good Scotch, pour us a round, yeah? Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back down in ten minutes. Just stay, okay? Besides," he added, grinning, "your car isn't here."

Danny nodded and shuffled tiredly to the guest room, as Steve headed up the stairs, still carrying Jax easily in his arms. Danny grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom - he'd forgo his usual long, hot shower so as to make sure Jax didn't run out of hot water, but he was tired, and sore, and filthy, so a shower was definitely going to happen.

By the time he'd finished, and poured the drinks Steve had requested, he heard his friend and partner padding quietly down the stairs. His hair was still damp, and he'd thrown on gym shorts and a tshirt.

Steve collapsed on the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Danny patted him sympathetically on the shoulder and shoved his drink closer to him.

"Rough day at the office, yeah?" Danny said quietly.

Steve groaned and sat up, reaching for his tumbler. Danny noticed that his hand was shaking - minutely, to be sure, but shaking.

"Hey, big guy," Danny said, bending around to look Steve in the eye. "She's okay. Upstairs, tucked in safe and sound, no doubt, in your bed. Which is, I must say, still a disturbing image that I try to keep out of my brain."

Steve took a long sip of his scotch.

"He played us, Danny," he said, rubbing his eyes. "He played all of us, but damn it, he manipulated her . . . and I let him."

"Okay, take off the hair shirt, Steven," Danny said, refilling their glasses. "For starters - mentally unstable Homeland Security agent. No one saw that coming. Secondly - despite frequently working cases together, Jax answers to Grover and HPD SWAT."

Steve sighed. "Yeah, about that. Danny, you're the only member of Five-O who really has experience with this sort of wave of gang activity. I've asked the governor to consider allowing me to make a job offer to Grover. What would you think?"

Danny sipped his drink, and thought about that for a moment. "I think it could work," he answered, nodding slowly. "What about . . . "

"Jax?" Steve sighed. "I don't know, Danny. The governor implied - has implied, more than once - that she'd authorize a position for Jax in Five-O."

"But you don't want that?" Danny asked.

"What? Not - Danny, I would . . ." Steve paused, took a deep breath. "I want to keep her safe, Danny. That's all. But I don't know if she'd go for the idea. She's really independent; wants to make it on her own merits."

"Hey," Danny said, "Relax, big guy. It will work out, yeah?"

Steve nodded, and clinked his glass against Danny's. "Yeah. Yeah," he said, more confidently, "it will. Thanks, man." He stood and stretched, spine popping. "I'm beat, Danny; I'm gonna turn in. Jax is due for another dose of meds before too long."

"Hey, would you mind if I . . . gotta admit, Steve, when she turned in front of Rivera today, I think it took another five years off my life. Can I just give a quick check on her? I know she's probably out of it," Danny said.

"You don't have to explain, Danny, of course," Steve said. "I'll clean up down here, go on up."

Steve waited until Danny was half-way up the stairs, and then added, "And you're right, she's all tucked in safe and sound into my bed . . . " He smirked; it was just too easy, he couldn't pass it up.

Danny flipped him off without looking back as he went up the stairs. He slipped into the bedroom quietly. The room was cast in a dim glow from a lamp on the dresser just inside the room. Danny was taken aback, again, by the sight of Jax's hair spread on the pillow. Memories of her tangled undercover op in New York came flooding back to him. This time, though, when he pulled a chair up - no way was he trying to crouch next to the bed, he'd already tweaked his knee today - she didn't turn away from him.

"Hey, babe," he whispered, and brushed her hair away from her face. It was still the very-wrong color, but still damp and thankfully free from the blood that had matted it after the wreck.

She blinked at him in confusion. "Danny?"

"Yeah, honey," he answered, brushing the back of his hand carefully over her bruised cheek.

She tried to sit up and hissed in pain. "Holy _shit_ ," she gritted out. Despite the obvious pain, she tried to sit up again.

"Babe. What the hell are you doing?" Danny fussed.

"I need to hit the head," Jax said.

"Hit the . . . so now you're in the Army, too?" Danny rolled his eyes. "You want me to, um, get Steve?"

"No," Jax said quickly and emphatically. "Just . . . help me, would you, please? And it's the Navy, Danny, the _Navy_."

Danny tried, and failed, to help Jax sit up without hurting her, and finally just gave up and scooped her up out of the bed and set her gently on her feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist and was surprised at how willing she was to lean on him the few steps to the bathroom.

"Thanks, Danny, I got it from here," she said, as she went into the bathroom, still half bent over, her arm wrapped protectively around her ribs. Danny heard some thuds and a few muffled curses.

"You okay in there?" he called through the door.

"Remember the bruised kidney?" he heard her reply. "I think I tweaked it. I'm okay."

Danny winced. He'd had a bruised kidney once . .. he'd pissed blood for a week. Jax had sustained a severely bruised kidney weeks ago, the day of Gracie's field trip.

"Yeah, babe, I remember mine, too," he said. "You sure you're okay?"

He heard a whimper. "Yeah," Jax replied wearily. A few minutes later, Danny heard the sound of flushing and then water running in the sink. Jax emerged, wiping toothpaste from her mouth with the back of her hand.

Danny opened his arms and Jax shuffled to him, leaning against his broad chest. He wrapped his arms around her carefully. "Thanks, Danny," she mumbled.

"Any time," he said. "Except, you know, please not anytime again soon."

She nodded her head against his chest, and he heard her breath hitch in a muffled sob.

"Babe?" he asked, alarmed.

"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, brokenly, "I couldn't . . . the case . . . my cover was compromised by Davidson, and I didn't get anything useful. It was for nothing. Travis got shot, Davidson said there was a girl who'd been taken, and I got nothing; not on Okada, not on Rivera. Danny, I don't have a single lead and that poor girl -" she broke off with a sob.

"Oh, Jax, honey," Danny said, "we didn't tell you . . . I'm so sorry . . . Kono found her, babe. She'd had a fight with her mom; she was safe the whole time, at a friend's house. She's home, she's safe." Danny had to tighten his grip on Jax, as her knees went literally weak with relief.

"Danny," she sighed, "Thank God. You're sure? She's really okay?"

"Absolutely positive, babe," Danny said.

Jax tried, and failed, to bite off a whimper. Her hands fisted in Danny's shirt, and her breathing hitched again.

"Hey, what is it?" he asked, rubbing her shoulders gently. "Jax?" he asked, with growing alarm, as her breathing became unsteady.

"I'm just . . . oh, _shit_ , Danny, it hurts so bad . . . " Jax said, her breathing still shallow and rapid.

Danny heard Steve's quiet footfalls on the stairs. "Steve," he called, "did you say it was close to time for -" he stopped as Steve appeared in the doorway, with a water bottle in one hand and two prescription bottles in another.

"Yeah, it is," Steve said, putting the items on the dresser. "Why, is -" he broke off as he caught sight of Jax, lifting her head wearily from Danny's chest. She was shockingly pale, her eyes tense with pain. "Ku'uipo . . . what's wrong?" he demanded. "Should I call Malia? Do you need to go back to the hospital?"

"No," she said, waving her hand dismissively, though she still clung to Danny with her free hand. "Nothing new, nothing broken . . . just . . . I don't think I've ever, ever hurt this badly. Broken bones and lacerations don't hurt this bad." Danny steered her to the chair that he'd pulled next to the bed and gently eased her down, as Steve grabbed the water and prescriptions. Jax groaned in relief. "I've never thought I would be so happy to see those stupid painkillers. Wait . . . oh my Lord . . . is this because I'm pushing thirty?"

Steve and Danny exchanged bemused glances as Steve tipped out several different pills into Jax's palm, and handed her the water bottle. She tossed them back gratefully.

"Brat," Danny said affectionately. "Remind us of how ancient we are, will ya? Babe, you were in a serious, serious MVA today. Now, it's a miracle, and a wonder, that you don't have multiple broken bones, or worse - and I'll take it, I'm thankful - but you're going to be feeling the results of that impact for a good while, I'm afraid." Danny kissed her on the top of the head, and then hesitated - this was where he usually tousled her hair, but it looked so un-Jax-like that it threw him. Steve caught a glimpse of hurt on Jax's face, and she dropped her eyes. He tilted his head at Danny, and as usual, his partner read his almost imperceptible signal, nodded, and reached down to gently ruffle his hands through her hair. "Behave yourself," he said, "and get some rest. Grover will be by tomorrow to brief you."

"I can come in to give a statement," Jax said stubbornly.

"No, because you can't drive, and I'm not driving you," Steve said mildly.

"Okay, I'm going to my room before this becomes an epic battle of wills," Danny said, chuckling. "See you in the morning."

Steve smacked Danny affectionately on the shoulder, then turned his attention to Jax. He crouched by the chair and traced his index finger over the bruises on her cheek. "The pills should kick in soon," he said quietly. "I'm sorry the last dose wore off . . . I'll set my alarm for a little closer together next time."

"It's okay," she said. "I didn't intend to take them again."

"Jax," Steve said, "you need to stay on top of the pain, okay? Don't try to tough it out; it's pointless. Besides, you can be quite entertaining . . . "

She smacked him in the chest, wincing when her injured hand made contact. He wrapped her hand effortlessly in his and kissed it. He stood and straightened the covers on the bed, turning them back, and fluffing up the pillow. "Do you need something to eat? Drink?" he asked.

Jax shook her head. "I think I just want to go back to sleep," she admitted. "But what about Dillon? Shouldn't you be questioning him? Don't you need to . . . you know . . . " she gestured broadly with her hand, reminding Steve of Danny.

"The only thing I need to do is make sure you're okay," he assured her. "Dillon is still in the hospital; he's not going anywhere."

"The case is not going anywhere," she said morosely.

"Jax," Steve said, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "we're going to have to investigate, of course, but I'm starting to think there never was a case. We've got a big problem with increased gang activity, but as far as a specific, buildable case? I think Davidson was manipulating the data." He hesitated, trying to figure out how much to reveal while Jax was exhausted and obviously starting to feel the effects of the painkillers. "Jerry looked into his history at Homeland; there were some red flags. We'll go over all of it when you're feeling a little better, okay?"

Jax looked at him skeptically, and started to demand more answers, but her intentions were cut short with a yawn.

"Sleep?" Steve suggested.

She nodded and flinched as she tried to push herself up out of the chair. Steve bent and picked her up easily, holding her against him for a moment before he carefully lowered her to the mattress. He tucked the light blanket around her and ran his fingers through her hair, careful to avoid the freshly repaired laceration. She sighed and closed her eyes. He crossed the room and started to turn off the low lamp.

"Can you . . . can it stay on?" Jax asked hesitantly, quietly. She hated asking. It felt like an admission of every kind of weakness. But she hated even more the idea of waking up and not knowing, with absolute certainty, where she was.

"Of course, ku'uipo," Steve murmured.

Jax felt the mattress behind her dip with Steve's weight; then his hand was wrapped carefully around her shoulder, soft kisses pressed to the back of her neck. She started to relax; painful muscles loosening with the painkillers kicking in.

"It was a really, really nice car . . . " she mumbled.

"Hmm?" Steve asked, not sure where she was going with this.

"The Supra," she said, half-asleep. "How bad was it? Did it crack the engine block?"

Steve chuckled. "We'll ask, okay? Tomorrow. We'll ask, tomorrow."


	36. Jade 8

The first thing Jax was aware of was the subtle weight of Steve's hand, resting on her hip - one of the few places on her body that somehow wasn't bruised - his thumb tracing over the scar there. He did that sometimes, even in his sleep. So that probably wasn't what woke her up. Pain? Well, probably still a seven, not that she would tell anyone. The room was marginally brighter; so, barely sunrise.

No, something was nagging at her. Something about the case? Steve said maybe there wasn't a case. Dillon was unconscious, last she heard, and they hadn't questioned him yet. That collision . . . Jax sighed, thinking about those poor cars. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't deny the thrill of being behind the wheel of that Supra again. Carlos' Supra . . .

"Holy fucking shit," Jax said, sitting bolt upright in bed.

Steve was on his feet in an instant, fully awake, his Sig in hand and aimed at the door to the bedroom.

"Jax, what's wrong?" he asked, his system flooding with adrenaline. He kept his eyes on the door - had she heard something? - and stepped in front of her.

"Stand down, sailor," she said, wincing as her body vehemently protested her sudden movement. "I just thought of something. About the case. Or the non-case."

"Okay," Steve said, thumbing the safety on his gun and replacing it in his bedside table. "Good morning to you, too." He shook his head fondly at her. The pale morning light revealed the bruises that had deepened in color overnight, and he frowned as he brushed his fingers lightly over the bruises that were distinctively finger shaped. "I hope it's something that will help us nail the bastard that did this to you."

"It was Dillon," she said emphatically. "And you know the Supra?"

"Yeah, the car that you've asked about twice," he said, smiling.

"Really?" Jax asked, surprised. "I don't remember. What did I want to know?"

"If the engine block was cracked," he replied. "I think you have a crush on the car."

Jax thought about the car for a moment, and sighed softly.

Steve chuckled. "Oh, yeah, you do have a crush on the car. Should I be jealous?"

"No, but you need to get your hands on that car as soon as possible," Jax said, struggling to get out of bed. She chuffed in frustration; she was tangled in the sheets, and with her painful, stiff muscles, she was getting nowhere fast.

"Okay, tell me," Steve said, reaching down and gently unwrapping the sheets from her ankles.

"Thanks. Because," she said triumphantly, "if that car was registered to the driver, he knew everything that was going on. He's a middle level player - he did a lot of Dillon's dirty work, knew the plan, carried it out. Carlos. I don't have a last name. But, he's our guy. We have to get to him before Dillon does. He'll roll on Dillon, I guarantee it."

Steve was still staring at her, trying to process everything she was saying, when she hobbled into the bathroom and shut the door. In a few moments, her head popped out of the door.

"Well?" she demanded, mumbling around her toothbrush.

"Well, I will be ready to roll on this in about ten minutes, but I'm not sure what you're doing," he said, crossing his arms.

"What I'm doing is," she paused, spit and rinsed, and came back out of the bathroom, this time holding out a roll of gauze toward Steve. "What I'm doing is getting ready to go give a statement, help track Carlos, find out what the status is on Dillon, and check on Travis. Help me with this would you?"

Steve shook his head and began changing the bandage on her hand. "Okay, you still look like death on a stick, and I know you've got to be in considerable pain. You've already given us a great lead; you don't have to be personally involved."

"I don't have to be - what the hell, McGarrett," Jax said.

 _Oh, yeah, that's definitely hot,_ Steve's brain chimed in. _What was that about the governor approving her for a spot in Five-O? Did we decide that's the best idea ever, or the worst?_

He shook himself slightly when he realized she was still talking. Better catch up.

". . . involved, I couldn't possibly _be_ more personally involved. I am the _epitome_ of involved. This was my UC, my op, my case . . . I deserve the opportunity to salvage something out of this mess," she said heatedly. She paused, flexed her fingers, and looked up at Steve. "Thank you, that's so much better," she said, smiling at him as she stretched up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

He blinked at her in amazement; she had shifted effortlessly from calling him out as a commanding officer trying to shut her out of an investigation to thanking him for changing her bandage.

"It could work," he blurted out.

She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "Of course it could. Wait, are you talking about Carlos?"

"I wasn't" he said, shaking his head, "but I'll tell you later. And yes, finding Carlos could definitely work, and I'll be ready in just a few minutes to go follow up on that. You, however, need to put some food in your stomach and take your next round of meds."

Jax opened her mouth to protest and then thought better of it. "Okay," she said agreeably.

The minute Steve was in the shower, she threw on a clean HPD t-shirt and pair of cargo pants. She was still moving painfully, but the rush of adrenaline at the prospect of a decent lead was fueling her movements. At least it was something. She shoved her feet into her boots and headed down the stairs. It was a slow descent, but she reached the bottom and was rewarded with the smell of coffee.

"At least come eat something, get some coffee in you, and take some Motrin," Danny called from the kitchen. Jax went into the kitchen where Danny was already pouring her a cup.

"Wow, serious detecting skills," she said, sipping the coffee appreciatively.

"Steve sent me a text, said you were far too easily convinced, so he figured you were going to gear up the minute he got into the shower," Danny said, raising his own mug in salute.

"Danny, I'm not sitting this out," Jax said earnestly. "I'm just bruised and sore; nothing broken, no stitches even."

"Concussion, but who's counting," Danny said, sighing. "I get it, babe. Not going to try to talk you out of it. Just, please; eat some toast - here - and take something. And you have to promise to call it quits today, when you need to, okay? You can go in my office and lay down. Promise?"

"I promise, Danny," Jax said.

()()()()()()()()

Just as Jax predicted, the registration on the Supra led them straight to Carlos. She had argued vehemently to be included in the take-down until Danny convinced her that her showing up in interrogation would be better, and she'd reluctantly waited at the palace, chugging coffee and knocking back Motrin.

It was worth the trade-off. Carlos sat in the chair, full of bluster and swagger, pretending that the blue-tinted lights didn't unnerve him in the slightest. Steve, Danny, and Grover entered close together, still in their vests and with their sidearms strapped on them in plain sight. As Carlos sneered up at them, they parted slightly and he caught sight of Jax. They'd arranged for Jax to slip in just behind them; her petite frame hidden by their combined bulk.

Carlos went motionless, his sneer replaced with a look of terror. "Madre Maria santa de Jesús," he whispered. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Supposed to be? Who wanted me dead, Carlos?" Jax asked, her voice a low purr. She sauntered toward Carlos, easily, as if she wasn't bruised to the bone. Her fingers trailed delicately along his jawline. "Dillon? Or that double crossing agent? Hmm, Carlos? You think people haven't wanted me dead, many times? And yet, here I am."

Danny groaned inwardly as Grover looked at him, his eyebrows shooting straight up into his hairline. He probably should have warned them that Jax was as fearless and cunning in suspect interviews as she was in the field. Steve was standing stock-still, his mouth parted slightly. Danny watched in uncomfortable amusement as Steve discreetly hitched up his cargo pants.

 _That's it. Poach her away from HPD along with Grover. Then take her home_ , Steve's brain was giving him orders again.

"I swear," Carlos was saying, "I didn't know . . . I had no idea what they were planning. I think Travis did. You should haul his ass in here; I think he knew something."

"Oh, Travis has helped us out so much, Carlos, more than you can imagine," Jax said.

Carlos recovered his bravado and leered at her. "Did he help you out, baby? You let him take you for a test drive?"

Steve bit back a growl but didn't manage to restrain taking a half step forward, his hand gripping his Sig Sauer. Jax held up a hand without glancing at him.

"Carlos, Carlos," Jax chided. "Have you not yet learned to speak politely?"

"You're something else, with your cop friends here to protect you, Jade," Carlos said.

"Darling, they're here to protect you," Jax said. "You may as well tell us what you know, honestly. See if what you have to say lines up with our other witnesses."

"I'm no snitch," Carlos said.

"No, but you might be able to be housed with your fellow MS-13 inmates . . . as opposed to Yakuza," Danny suggested. "I'd tell her what you know."

Carlos pondered that for a moment. "Jade was dead either way," he said finally, addressing Danny. "I heard that agent guy say that Dillon could have her, do whatever he wanted with her. But you could tell from the way he said it, that handing her over to Dillon was just his way of disposing of her."

"What about The Company?" Jax asked. "What are they involved in, and what's the connection with MS-13?"

Carlos made a dismissive gesture. "The Company is a country club. Dillon wants to use their resources, their connections. They got no teeth, no ambition, you know? So, you gonna cut me a deal now, or what? I've been cooperative. Besides, looks like no real harm came to this little piece of ass. What is she to you, anyway? She belong to one of you, or do you share -"

It happened so fast, Danny would have to swear in court that he really, truly, God as his witness, didn't see what happened. One minute Carlos was running his mouth, and the next he was looking up at the ceiling with Jax's boot at his throat and Steve's Sig aimed at his . . . oh, well, that was just enough to make Danny cringe.

Grover cleared his throat pointedly. "Officer Nolan," he said, his voice mild but authoritative. "Take your foot off the dirtbag's throat, please."

Jax shrugged and stepped back.

"What about him?" Carlos whined, casting fearful glances at Steve.

"Oh, I'm half inclined to walk out of here and let him explain to you exactly what Officer Nolan is to him . . . just so there's no confusion . . . but unfortunately, folks frown on police brutality and people winding up mutilated beyond recognition in custody. I do suggest you apologize to my officer, though," Grover said.

"Hey, I'm sorry, seriously, no offense," Carlos babbled.

Danny wrapped his hand around Steve's bicep. "Shall I book him, boss?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Steve holstered his handgun and nodded.

"I sure as hell better not be left to do it," he said, as he turned and stalked out of the room.

Grover raised his eyebrows at Jax again. "Nolan, you look green around the gills," he said.

"It's the weird lights," Jax suggested, though now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she was feeling a little woozy.

"You did good, Nolan," Grover said, "and now I want you to stand down, go upstairs, and get off your feet. That's an order. I'll help Williams get this scum processed."

Jax hesitated, but since it was an order . . . "Okay, Captain," she said, and headed for the elevator.

She turned the corner, and was surprised to see Steve still pacing in front of the elevator.

"Is it broken?" she asked, not relishing the idea of dragging her now aching body up several flights of stairs.

"Is it - no, it's not broken," Steve said, running his hands through his hair. He looked at her, and his expression was unreadable.

Jax froze. Was he angry? Jealous?

"Steve, I'm sorry . . . I don't . . . " Jax felt like she was supposed to be apologizing, but she wasn't sure exactly what for. The adrenaline and Motrin was well and truly gone now; leaving her with a throbbing headache, and every bruise was making its vicious presence known. She sagged against the wall for support.

Steve was at her side in two long strides.

"I didn't mean to . . . I thought the plan was to throw Carlos off his game . . . " Jax muttered.

"Wait, what?" Steve said in confusion. He cupped his hand around her face, his eyes darkening as his hand fell over the finger shaped bruises on her jaw and throat. She once again misread his expression as anger directed toward her, and despite her best efforts, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

"Ku'uipo," he murmured, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek, "what's wrong? Are you hurt?" He glanced back down the hall, alarmed. "Wait, what happened after I left . . . did he -"

"No," Jax said quickly, looking at him in confusion. "You're angry . . . "

"Well, yeah, Jax, I'm furious," he said, and she dropped her eyes. Realization dawned on him. "Shit, no - no, Jax, not at you - at Davidson, that lying sack of . . . why would you think I was angry with you?"

Now Jax was tired, hurting, and confused. "Because I turned the corner and you're down here pacing and all -" she made an agitated gesture with her hands.

"Because we got played and it almost . . . " he stopped, and gently slid his hands into her hair, carefully avoiding the freshly repaired laceration. He tilted her head up and kissed her tenderly and carefully. "I still don't understand why you would think I was angry with you . . . " he said.

"I was sort of being . . . Jade . . . " she said slowly. "I thought maybe you didn't . . . maybe you were angry."

"Oh," he said, " _Oh_. Yeah, no. That was, um, actually that was really amazing." He let his fingers slide through her hair, smirking down at her. "Distracting as hell."

"Really?" she said, that dangerous glint in her eye. "Well, I don't have stitches . . . "

His fingers traced over the violent purple bruising across her neck and collarbone. "No, but you do have bone-deep bruising," he said, "and my guess is that you've taken nothing but Motrin today, and you've been jacked up on caffeine and adrenaline, and it's wearing off fast."

She started to protest, but he leveled a look at her.

"Yeah," she admitted.

He punched the button for the elevator. "Then let's go get you off your feet, before Grover finds out that you're not following orders."

"Wha - " Jax protested.

Steve shot her a cocky grin and held up his phone. "He sent me a text. Come on, we'll both get in trouble."

()()()()()()()()

By the time Danny and Grover returned from booking Carlos, Jax had compromised and was curled on the sofa in Danny's office, awkwardly typing up a statement. Steve met up with them as they exited the elevator.

"Get anything else useful?" he asked.

"Bits and pieces," Danny said. "We'll put it together with the other bits and pieces, start building a case."

"Chin and Kono are at the hospital," Steve explained, "talking to Travis. Word is that Dillon is coming around; doctors say that as the swelling in his brain decreases he might fully recover. Too soon to tell."

Grover shook his head. "You know this is just the tip of the iceberg, McGarrett. I've watched MS-13 move in and take over weaker, rival gangs."

"Yeah, about that," Steve said slowly. He looked to Danny, who nodded and smiled. "Would you step into my office a minute, Captain? There's something I wanted to run by you. Danny, Jax is trying to type with her hand in a splint; see if you can get her to stop for ten minutes, would you? Bribe her with coffee or something."

Two mugs of steaming coffee in hand, Danny pushed the door to his office open with his hip and walked in.

"Hey, babe," he said, smiling down at Jax. "Take a break."

"Thanks, Danny," Jax said absently, reaching for the coffee with her good hand, but keeping her eyes on the laptop.

"Nope, not trusting you with a hot beverage, one bad hand, and a laptop," Danny said, placing the mugs on his desk. He held out his hand for the laptop. "Gimme that, you get coffee."

Jax narrowed her eyes at him. "Daniel."

"Seriously? You can't even with me, kid. Look at you; you look like you went ten rounds and lost. You're wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, for crying out loud. No, your morning of being the badass bad cop is all done . . . which, by the way, I think you may have permanently damaged Steve."

Jax sighed and handed over the laptop, wincing as her muscles protested. She was rewarded with the coffee, and gratefully wrapped her hands around the warmth.

"What's going on in there?" she asked, peering curiously into Steve's office.

"Ah, yes. I believe Steve is offering Captain Grover a position with Five-O," Danny said, watching Jax's face to gauge her reaction.

She kept her features carefully schooled. "Makes sense; Grover has a lot of experience with gang activity. Steve's background is more international in scope. He knows how to build a good team."

"You really respect him as a commanding officer, don't you?" Danny commented.

"I absolutely do," Jax agreed. "At Five-O, obviously, but also . . . I saw him the night of the explosion, that reserve weekend. There's a reason he made Lieutenant Commander; he would have continued to climb the ranks, I have no doubt."

"Good," Danny said simply. "Good to know."

Jax looked up at him, saw the knowing smile on his face. "Really?" she said.

"I expect he will talk to Grover about it first, but yeah; he's already run it by the governor, asked me what I thought of the idea, and if I thought you'd take a position with Five-O if he offered it to you," Danny said.

"And? What did you say?" Jax asked.

"Told him I wasn't sure, honestly. You've made it clear that you want to be recognized on the basis of your own merits. Which you certainly have been, in HPD SWAT," Danny said. "I understand that; respect it. But . . ." he hesitated.

"But what?"

Danny shrugged. "We want you at Five-O. I won't lie."

"Because you feel like you need to watch after me, still," Jax said; but her tone was even, not accusatory.

Danny held up his hands in surrender. "I think it's hard-wired as part of human nature, Jax, to want to keep the people we care about close by. Tell me that's not one of the reasons Chin snagged Kono straight out of the academy into Five-O."

Movement in Steve's office caught Jax's eye, as Grover stood and shook Steve's hand across his desk. The two of them walked toward Danny's office, and Steve smiled at Jax, that slow, warm smile that made her brain go uncharacteristically fuzzy around the edges.

"Officer Nolan," Grover said, ambling into Danny's office. "No, goodness, don't stand up; you'll fall over. You doing okay?" He reached out his giant hand and brushed over one of the more vivid bruises on her jaw, shaking his head. "Good work in interrogation today. Made me think that maybe HPD SWAT medic isn't a full use of your talents. McGarrett here seems to agree with me."

"Jax," Steve said, leaning against Danny's desk, "Captain Grover has agreed to transfer from HPD SWAT to Five-O. I assume Danny probably gave you the heads up."

Jax nodded. "Congratulations, Captain."

"The governor has agreed that Five-O needs to take the lead in a very proactive position of dealing with this influx of gang activity, while I have to still be able to follow up leads on Hesse. If the two things collide at the same time, that's going to leave Five-O severely shorthanded. I know you've worked well with Grover, and it's no secret that we'd like you to be part of Five-O. I've been authorized to officially offer you a transfer as well, if you're interested. If you need time to think about it, that's fine. No pressure," Steve assured her.

Jax nodded slowly. She was glad that Danny had clued her in, but it was still a lot to think about.

"Chin and Kono . . . " she started.

"Were glad you were staying in Hawaii, but a little disappointed that you joined HPD," Danny finished. "They'd be delighted, but you know we're family no matter what you decide."

"So, how would this work? I'd partner with Captain Grover?" Jax asked.

"That would be my preference," said Grover, smiling, "since I can't imagine being a literal fifth wheel here."

Jax took another thoughtful sip of coffee. "No undercover work for a while?" she asked quietly. "Not indefinitely, just . . . for a while."

"Agreed," Steve and Danny said in unison.

"This is crazy," Jax said, looking at Steve. "There's things you and I will have to talk about."

"Okay," he said, nodding, but he could read the 'yes' in her eyes, and he started smiling again. "Yes?" he asked.

"Yes," Jax said. "Nice move, poaching my boss first," she grumbled.

Danny grinned broadly.

"And I'm not fetching your coffee, Danny," she said sternly.

"No problem, babe," Danny said.

"Who's up for celebrating two new team members?" Steve asked. "It's an official team-building event; drinks at Sidestreets, on the governor? Jax, you do look like you could keel over -"

"No way, McGarrett, I'll text Kono," Jax interrupted.

"I'm driving my new partner," Grover said, looking at Jax pointedly.

"But I'm an excellent driver, really . . . "

()()()()()()()()

The evening at Sidestreets was well-deserved. They knew they were a long way from solving the problem of MS-13, but at least they had two suspects in custody, and a remarkably cooperative former member recovering in the hospital. They could at least breathe.

Kono had whooped in delight and hugged both Jax and Steve, then drug Grover out onto the dance floor.

"He's surprisingly good," Chin commented. "He's half-way keeping up with Kono, which is saying a lot."

Chin studied his companions in their favorite corner booth. Steve was relaxed and smiling, something that Chin felt he didn't see nearly enough. Jax had won the argument against painkillers in favor of beer, and was happily tired, and slightly buzzed, sitting between Steve and Danny. "Welcome to Five-O, Jax," Chin said, clinking his bottle with hers.

"Yeah, babe," Danny said, clinking his bottle with theirs. "Welcome home."

"Awww, Danno, you just called Hawaii home," Steve pointed out. "I knew you'd assimilate to island life sooner or later."

"Yeah, whatever, Steven," Danny snarked mildly. "Maybe I just needed a little piece of Jersey here to make it feel like home, yeah?" He bumped shoulders with Jax gently.

They all gamely pretended not to see her hastily brush a random tear away, and Steve dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "It's gonna work, Jax," he whispered. "We'll make it work." He took her hand gently under the table, his thumb stroking over the bruised knuckles sticking out from the splint.

Kono slid back into the booth, breathless and happy. "Grover said goodnight; he headed home, something about even new task force members had to help their kids with high school algebra. And Steve, you're the boss, you get to set the rules about public displays of affection among co-workers, brah. No need to hold hands under the table." She winked at Jax.

"Really? So you'd be comfortable with this, then?" Steve asked, as he cupped his hands around Jax's face and kissed her slow and sweet. Her hands slid up his biceps and around his neck, one hand sliding into his hair and anchoring him in such a way to let him know that she was fully on board with the idea.

Danny rolled his eyes at Chin while Kono fanned herself delicately with her napkin. "I really do need to get my own," she muttered.

"Jax is still pretty beat up," Steve said. "I think we should probably go. So she can rest."

"Commander Obvious," Danny said dryly. "Still trying to figure out how on earth you ever earned the nickname Smooth Dog. Not buying it," he grumbled, as he slid out of the booth so that Steve and Jax could exit.

"I'll explain it to you when you're ready, Danno," Jax said, patting him on the cheek.

()()()()()()()()

"You okay?" Steve asked, rubbing her shoulder gently. She was quiet, snuggled next to him in the truck.

"There's something I want to do when we get home," she said.

 _Oh, hell yeah, there's something I want to do when we get home, too,_ his brain chimed in. Sometimes his brain was obnoxious.

"Yeah?"

"Is there a burn law on your stretch of beach?" she asked.

Steve glanced at her, curious. "Only that you have to have all fires attended, and completely extinguished when you're done. Why?"

He discovered, upon arriving at home, that she needed his help carrying the clothing and gear that belonged to Jade down to the beach. The flat-rimmed hat was the last thing she tossed on the pile, after the flames had gotten off to a good start.

Steve reached out and brushed away the tears glittering on her cheeks in the firelight.

"Sorry," she muttered, turning her face away from him.

He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her eyes back to his. "You don't ever, ever need to apologize, Jax."

"I don't ever . . . I'll do undercover work again, when you need me to. When Five-O needs me to. Just please - don't ask me to revive the Jade cover. Not again. It scares me," she admitted. "And damn it, now I want to smoke," she added, trying to laugh it off.

Steve joined her with a smile, but didn't let her off that easy. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, cradling her head against his chest, as her arms wound automatically around his waist. "Jade is officially retired, I promise," he said, stroking her hair. "Speaking of which, I do miss the red, but damn . . . this hair, those boots, the interrogation room today . . . "

Jax threw back her head and laughed. "Okay, I did keep the boots . . . "

"Really . . . " Steve drawled, dropping his head and kissing his way down her neck. He hummed in approval when her breath hitched and she tightened her hold on him, pulling him closer to her.

"How long will it take you to fully extinguish that fire, sailor?" Jax whispered.

Steve's brain tripped and he blinked at her. _Oh_. The _actua_ l fire. He grabbed the shovel that he'd propped against the chair and with four powerful scoops of sand, had the fire completely doused.

She reached out and took his hand and tugged him gently toward the house.

"Jax," he said, pausing to kiss her senseless just outside the door, "ku'uipo, you're still all bruised." His breath caught as she stepped inside the door, putting her at exactly the right height to kiss that little spot right behind his ear. "And," he continued, taking her splinted wrist gently in his huge hand, "you even . . . oh, shit . . . have a fracture. And a . . . damn it, Jax . . . a splint."

"Well, then," she said, looking at him with a glint in her eye, "I really, really think it's a good thing, then, that my new boss is a Navy SEAL . . . you know, extensive training in field medicine . . . anatomy and physiology . . . "

Steve growled low in his throat as he wrapped his hands around her hips, guiding her backwards into the house while making sure she didn't trip. Her trust in him was implicit and she walked backwards easily, until he could reach back and close and lock the door with one hand behind his back, the other tangled in her hair.

"You are going to be the death of me, Jax . . . " he mumbled.

"Whatever you say . . . " she said, as she started walking toward the stairs, then looked back over her shoulder at him, " . . . boss . . . "

()()()()()()()()

"Steven McGarrett!"

 _Shit_. Both names usually didn't mean anything good.

"Yes, ku'uipo?" he asked, all innocence, as he poked his head into the bathroom door.

"Don't you ku'uipo me," she said, pointing an accusing finger at a distinctive mark on her neck. "This is not professional. I'm supposed to go into my first day of work at Five-O and you . . . I _told_ you, last night, I _warned_ you . . . but no, you are such a Neanderthal . . ."

Steve had the decency to blush a bit, but he scoffed and waved dismissively at her.

"You're black and blue all over, Jax," he protested. "You are literally covered in bruises and you think anyone's going to notice that? No one will notice. I promise."

()()()()()()()()

Kono noticed, of course, immediately. She fist-bumped Steve, who in turn looked equal parts smug and embarrassed.

"Don't look at me like that," Jax hissed at Danny, refusing to meet his eyes.

Chin shrugged at Grover. He'd signed the paperwork first thing that morning; too late now.

"You people are unbalanced, you know that?" Grover said to the room at large. "But I love you anyway. Now, let's get to work . . . "


	37. Epilogue / Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind reviews, and the encouragement to continue the story.
> 
> A Little Piece of Jersey seemed to come to a conclusion of sorts with Jax and Grover joining Five-O.
> 
> To continue, new chapters will be posted in another installment, posted as a new story: Bits and Pieces of Jersey.
> 
> Here's a preview for you: Bits and Pieces of Jersey - Wake Up Call

It wasn't unusual for either or both of them to wake up a bit disoriented. Too many missions, too many close calls . . . too many concussions, for that matter. Now, though, they didn't wake up alone, and it was usually easy to tell what kind of night it had been, even without specific memory.

If the night had been one of peaceful sleep, Steve usually had to wriggle his left arm a little, to get the circulation going, because Jax's head was nestled on his shoulder, his arm around her, holding her gently. On those mornings, it was usually Steve's alarm that woke them, and sometimes Jax would join him for part of his morning swim, and then be waiting for him with coffee when he was finished. Or the idea of a swim would be abandoned altogether, and the rest of the team would smirk knowingly at them as they arrived a few minutes late.

If Jax's sleep had been plagued with nightmares, she usually woke up curled tightly on her side, with Steve wrapped around her, his long, muscled limbs curved around her, making her feel safe. His face would still be tucked into her hair, from where he had drifted off while whispering soft phrases of comfort and assurance. He could imagine the horror of 9/11 in vivid, brutal detail, as her tortured mumblings about falling bodies and burning buildings were seared into his mind. Sometimes he could remind her that Danny was still alive and okay, and that she'd see him in a few hours, and she'd settle back into sleep. When she called for Billy or Jake, he could only hold her tight and whisper the words that he hadn't yet brought himself to say out loud in waking hours. But when he caught an elbow to the ribs, or a knee to the groin, he did his best to dodge the punches and wake her as quickly as possible, before her harsh cries turned to whimpered pleas, of no and stop and God, not again . . . because those broke his heart into a thousand pieces.

If Steve had been reliving any number of classified missions in his sleep, he would often wake up with a jolt, well before his alarm. Jax's hands would tighten around him, even in her sleep; one hand over his heart, the other usually tucked under his head, fingers tangled in his sleep-mussed hair. Her lips would brush against the back of his neck as she murmured to him; her voice and touch calming his racing heart and mind. She knew more about Afghanistan than she ever wanted to know; could imagine the sand, the heat. When he called out for his father, for Freddie, she wept for people she'd never met, and whispered promises she could never keep; promises to always be okay, to never leave him, to never be taken away. She knew there were people walking the earth that she would gladly kill with her bare hands if given the opportunity; although she would deny any knowledge of their very classified existence.

So when Steve woke up with a jolt, it was pitch dark, and there was no gentle pressure around his chest, no soothing fingers stroking absently through his hair, he automatically reached behind him. Nothing. No quiet, sleep-graveled voice mumbling in his ear, no soft brushes of air across the back of his neck. The next thing he missed was the familiar and comforting scent of honeysuckle and gunpowder which inevitably transferred from her pillow to his. Come to think of it, there was no pillow. His head was resting on the floor. He pulled his arm back in front of him to feel . . . not his floor. Cold, unyielding . . . smelling of antiseptic . . . and blood.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued in Bits and Pieces of Jersey

**Author's Note:**

> This story has taken on a life and universe of its own . . . thirty-six chapters in this first installment, already completed, and a second installment well underway. If you like what you've read so far, I hope you'll enjoy more to come.


End file.
